The tiger year begins.
I chew gum and resist the urge to run to a 7-11.
To buy smokes.
I check my mailbox impatiently.
Often thrice a day.
I read more Murakami.
And remember that cold rainy afternoon in Takayama, when I crept into that cozy little cafe across the road to the temple.
And ordered hot cocoa.
I should get back to reading now.
It reminds me of Japan.
It makes me feel whole.