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About Fukuoka

Met this one gal—Daisy, she called herself—worked the docks in ‘44. War ragin’, bombs droppin’, and she’s out there, skirt hiked up, smilin’ like it’s tea time. Gutsy as hell—made me happy, that grit! Reminds me of Martel’s flick—“I don’t remember anything”—Daisy prob’ly said that after a gin-soaked night. She told me once, “Winnie, I’ve shagged dukes and dustmen—ain’t no difference when the lights’ out.” Laughed my arse off—truth in that, eh?

For Travellers to Japan

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Finally, I get to the office, and my boss is already on my case. “Where are the reports?” he barks. I’m like, “Chill, man! I just got here!” But he’s all stressed about the quarterly numbers. I mean, it’s just numbers, right? But whatever. I dive into the spreadsheets, trying to make sense of it all.

A waterlogged retreat, deep in the mountains of Gifu