It was as if I were writing letters to hold together the pieces of my crumbling life.

The pillow smells like the sunlight, a precious smell.

It is hard to be an individual in Japan.

No matter what form the relationship might take, he was the only person she could picture sharing her life with.

I contented myself with whiskey, for medicinal purposes. It helped numb my various aches and pains. Not that the alcohol actually reduced the pain; it just gave the pain a life of its own, apart from mine.

I said nothing for a time, just ran my fingertips along the edge of the human-shaped emptiness that had been left inside me.

It might not be perfect, but the fundamental stance I adopted with regard to my home was to accept it, problems and all, because it was something I myself had chosen. If it had problems, these were almost certainly problems that had originated within me.