good surf, and formed a rock band ered at a second-rate private college, but  to campus and s of graduating. s ran an old respected ssy of Mito, and  resort, but ention of settling dosed o ride around sun truck, surf, and play tar in teur band—an easygoing lifestyle t anyone could see  going to last forever.

    Junko got friendly er so be in ies—a small, slim guy

    by sundoo  e,  sneakers. In er,  on a creased leat and sometimes a baseball cap. Junko fit. Everytlessly clean.

    Speakers of t  nonexistent in ticed Miyake. “ed  old Junko. “s pictures. I don’t tuff. But o manage. o tokyo sometimes and comes back late in ting supplies or somet knoalk muc  a bad guy.”

    Miyake o tore at least times a day. In t noon, er day.  civilities, but so er a while.

    ore one morning, sook a c en, even if   buy lots of milk and beer and keep it in tor? ouldn’t t be more convenient? Of course, it o tore people, but still . . .

    “Yea,” ’d make more sense to stock up, but I can’t.”

    “?” Junko asked.

    “ell, it’s just, like—I can’t, t’s all.”

    “I didn’t mean to pry or anyt let it bot’s just t ions  mean any .”

    Miyake ated a moment, scratcy, ell you trut or. I don’t like refrigerators.”

    Junko smiled. “I don’t like refrigerators myself, but I do  it kind of inconvenient not having one?”

    “Sure it’s inconvenient, but I e t can I do? I can’t sleep at nigor around.”

    a  Junko. But noed in han ever.

    alking on ter, Junko sa