Sublime

Spike deals exotic animals in his spare time; nobody but me seems to find this unusual.

‘Okayama? But the stew is from when he lived on that island near Hiroshima!’ ‘Oh, I’ll go there too. But the first port of call is definitely Okayama,’ said Nagare, pointing to the city on the map. ‘If you say so! Bring me back some kibi-dango dumplings, would you?’ said Koishi, patting her father on the shoulder.

By the way, I wanted to ask – what was it you had me put in Hideji’s soup right at the end? You know, that stuff in the jar.’ ‘Instant dashi powder. He’ll need to get used to that stuff if he’s going to live with Nami.’

‘Well then, Mr Taro Yamada. Let’s get to business. What dish are you looking for?’ asked Koishi. ‘I’d like you to help me with a certain kind of mackerel sushi.’ ‘What kind, exactly?’ asked Koishi, scribbling away with her pen. ‘The refined type they serve at the Izu restaurant? Or something a bit more rough and ready, like you get at Hanaori?’

Mr Smith, a sea-officer of the small, trim, brisk, round-headed, portwine kind, once shipmates with Stephen in the Lively and now second in the Goliath, rode by on a camel, with his legs folded negligently over the creature’s neck to the manner born: