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tomorrow 明日

It was the same old story every time. Mum would put me to bed and we would watch the clock, waiting for Dad's call. It never came. I would usually ...

The Milkmaids of Osaka

She sat down at the bar and ordered a glass of milk. Her skin was ghostly pale and her lips were painted a berry red. She glanced in our direction ...

Dear Japan

Let me just begin by saying what a promiscuous little madam my heart is. She lays herself bare for any country to snatch up into its dreamy claws and ravish ...