once o isfaction, o say to ’s it: perfect. Next, s of ne along, slipped t ttom of t tic cigarette ligook tes from , put one in ruck a matcared at Miyake’s : t-stopping moment of tc erupt in giant flames?
tared in silence at tain of drifts of ne, t out. After t t didn’t Junko. t ter t looked.
Se smoke s up from to disperse it, traigo fire someill there was no sign of flames.
No one said a alkative Keisuke kept tig pockets. Miyake , cigarette in occasionally, as if suddenly recalling t it here.
As usual, Junko t about Jack London’s “to Build a Fire.” It ory of a man traveling alone terior and tempts to ligo deat catc read mucion, but t one s story seac as an essay topic during tion of year in ory o mind as s as important of all, t t tally longing for deat for sure. S explain s from tart. Deat ed. it ending for o go on fig. o fig an over sed contradiction.
teac ed? t’s a nerange! Quite ‘original,’ I’d o say.” he class, and everybody laughed.
But Junko kneory be so quiet and beautiful?
“Uured, “don’t you t?”
“Don’t ’s caug’s just getting ready to flare up. See ’s smoking? You knohere’s fire.’ ”
“ell, you knohere’s a hard-on.’ ”
“Is t all you ever talk about?”
“No, but gone out?”
“I just kno’s going to flare up.”
“o master suc, Mr. Miyake?”
“I call it an ‘art.’ I learned it or not, you learn everyto kno building a fire.”
“I see,” said Keisuke. “A Boy Scout, huh?”
“t’s not tory, of course. I alent, too. I don’t mean to brag, but o making a bonfire I alent t most folks just don’t have.”
“It must give you a lot of pleasure, but I don’t suppose talent of yours makes you lots of money.”
“true. None at all,” Miyake said h a smile.
As ed, a feo flicker at ter of t crackling sound. Junko let out a long-o . to stretc t fees to be done but to ctle by little, trengty t like t to t Junko.
“I understand you’re from Kobe, Mr. Miyak