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The chocolate cake was good, Momo said. We had milk, too. Warm milk. In the shop, I noticed that the back of Momo's neck smelled. It smelled sweet. Her growing up repulses me. It is not her growing that disgusts me, but the growing itself. She casts off unneeded things. So many things. She can't help herself. And so I pity her. Her youth, her ignor
... See moreHiromi Kawakami • Manazuru
