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.