Looking back on it now, I’d say one’s thirties are a cruel age. At this point, I think of them as a time I whiled away unaware of the tide that can suddenly pull you...

Having played to her heart’s content, Chibi would come inside and rest for a while. When she began to sleep on the sofa–like a talisman curled gently in the shape of a comma and dug...

The cat’s manner of rejection was like cold, white light.

Chibi was a jewel of a cat.

By late autumn the yard would grow thick with fallen leaves, causing the landlady to heave many deep sighs.

Observation is at its core an expression of love which doesn’t get caught up in sentiment.

he imagined fate as a goddess, capricious and fickle, or as a river, which could flood at any moment