a cure for the common block


Umi nodded and retreated to her quarters for the evening, as she had done for the past 3 years and 3 months; and as she had done nearly every night for the past 2 years and 7 months she called upon a memory to lull her to sleep. The memory was short and fuzzy, she exchanged six words in English with a white man in the market while purchasing tuna, he made a joke in near-perfect Japanese about the dolphin content, and although a smirk crossed his face, what was etched in her memory were his brown eyes-more specifically how they dilated upon the sight of her face, and his sudden silence, instead of a rote flirtatious follow-up. She asked his name, he answered, but it was just his first name, and with a blush he turned away.


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