If I'm going to merely ramble, maybe I should just snuggle under the warm covers, think of Miu, and play with myself.

Whoa!" he says with a smile. The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deepen. "Chicken salad a la George Orwell!

No matter what the situation may be, I still take pleasure in witnessing the joy of others.

When I am writing, I do not distinguish between the natural and supernatural. Everything seems real. That is my world, you could say.

Here, too, a brand-new day is beginning. It could be a day like all the others, or it could be a day remarkable enough in many ways to remain in the memory. In either case, for now, for most people, it is a blank sheet of paper.

[...] Shimamoto had her own little world within her. A world that was for her alone, one I could not enter.

Things can be seen better in the darkness," he said, as if he had just seen into her mind. "But the longer you spend in the dark, the harder it becomes to return to the world aboveground where the light is