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THE girl in the same way as THE DRAGON. Above the low, glossy black lacquer table, the hurting whiteness of the airline ticket stood out neighboring to a serving bottle of sake and an ochoko[1]. The rain sounded, pretending to drown out the voice of Lie To Me[2], and percussed in the meninges of both as if it were a matter of the nippy Roland TR-808 and TR-909 rhythm boxes, vital in electronic music. And there, there they were, twist to face, without smoke, without others to occupy a non-existent track or MDMA to cloud their reasoning or neon lights to illuminate them. -Is that all? -Monique finally blurted out, in cold Japanese, in the same way as the water dancing with reference to the torii of Itsukushima Shrine. Her question was not answered afterward words flowing from Stas lips, but afterward his prosecution of distressing his feet on the tatami to withdraw. For a few seconds, brief, intense and bitter, comparable to the taste of the dregs of her last mug of tea, she

THE woman subsequent to THE DRAGON. Above the low, glossy black lacquer table, the pining whiteness of the airline ticket stood out bordering to a serving bottle of sake and an ochoko[1]. The rain sounded, pretending to drown out the voice of Lie To Me[2], and percussed in the meninges of both as if it were a concern of the nippy Roland TR-808 and TR-909 rhythm boxes, essential in electronic music. And there, there they were, slope to face, without smoke, without others to fill a non-existent track or MDMA to cloud their reasoning or neon lights to illuminate them. -Is that all? -Monique finally blurted out, in cool Japanese, following the water dancing something like the torii of Itsukushima Shrine. Her ask was not answered next words flowing from Stas lips, but like his dogfight of upsetting his feet upon the tatami to withdraw. For a few seconds, brief, intense and bitter, comparable to the taste of the dregs of her last cup of tea, she remained motionless, next the lett