Sublime

I dunno. I thought it would be better if we didn’t talk for a while. I mean, we’d just end up fighting again, and I’d say something mean. I know it’s partly my fault she has to work the way she does. Who am I kidding, it’s all because of me. I get so upset thinking about it. I want to become an adult, right now. That way, I can work hard and help w

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When I saw her with all her makeup off, I felt a little better. On the platform, I felt like I wasn’t even seeing my own sister. What a relief. I’d thought she was a walking skeleton, but she wasn’t half as skinny as I’d thought. She’d worn the wrong foundation, and way too much of it. No wonder she looked pale. Maybe she hadn’t really changed that

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In Shobashi, there were a million kinds of bars, including the onabe bars, where the hosts were born as women, but identified as men, and dressed like men, and interacted with their customers as men. The ones who were straight dated women, as guys. But Osaka is a big place. At the fancy clubs in Kitashinchi, the hostesses were of a different calibe

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Thomas Hal Phillips’ The Bitterweed Path (1949) looked at a complicated erotic relationship between a father and son and a third man; Paul Goodman’s Parents Day (1951) examined the relationship of a married man with a student at a private school; Gerald Tesch’s Never the Same Again (1956) was a sympathetic account of an affair between a thirteen-ye

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