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About Fukuoka

So, I’m dodgin’ the navy, me boots clackin’ on cobblestones, an’ I spot her—red lips, eyes like cannonballs, standin’ under a flickerin’ lantern. “What we need’s an impulse!” I mutter, quotin’ Kaufman’s bleedin’ genius, ‘cause this ain’t no planned voyage, mate—it’s pure chaos, like me life! I swagger over, tippin’ me hat, an’ she’s all, “Wot’s yer coin, pirate?” Coin? Ha! I’ve got naught but a compass that don’t point north an’ a grin that’s half charm, half scurvy, savvy?

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But then, the day takes a turn. I’m walking back, and I see this street performer. He’s juggling and doing tricks. I stop to watch, and he’s actually really good! But then, he drops a ball, and it rolls right to my feet. I pick it up and toss it back. He winks at me. I’m blushing like a school kid.

Ailing Nagasaki A-bomb survivor who lost kin to diseases seeks early gov't recognition