Sublime

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

‘You may pass that one around,’ she said, unrolling another. ‘I have more, if anyone would like one.’

‘See, the owner actually lived in part of the ryokan, and I used to play on her veranda. When it got to about three o’clock, she’d always bring me out a snack. Nothing too sugary – it was always baked sweet potatoes, or sticky rice with adzuki beans – just something to keep me going. But what I remember most vividly is her mackerel sushi.’ ‘So, wha

Japanese cafés were modeled on Parisian ones—though Paris was a place few Japanese people traveled to at the time, save the wealthy and the academic intelligentsia, who were…

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