e?”
“tion. Up in t muchere.”
Miyake narro turned o the fire.
“t’s . I’m not using my brain any more t king. I t I mean.”
“Do you to tell me more?”
“No,” Miyake said. “I really don’t.”
“Okay, I’ll stop, t I hink you’re a good person.”
“t’s not tip of a brancell me, Jun, about o die?”
Junko pondered then shook her head.
“ell, I t it all time,” Miyake said.
“o die?”
“Locked inside a refrigerator,” ime. Some kid is playing around inside a refrigerator t somebody’s tes. Like t.”
to ttering sparks. Miyake c did notrangely unreal shadows across his face.
“I’m in tigotal darkness, and I die little by little. It mig be so bad if I could just plain suffocate. But it doesn’t iny bit of air manages to get in t takes a really long time. I scream, but nobody can ices I’m missing. It’s so cramped in t move. I squirm and squirm, but t open.”
Junko said nothing.
“I drenc. I’ve been dreaming about dying sloc even after I end. t part of t is absolutely dry. I go to tcor. Of course, I don’t or, so I ougo realize it’s a dream, but I still don’t notice. I’m trange going on, but I open tor is pitc’s out. I ick my out from trong, and tart dragging me inside. I let out a ime I ’s my dream. It’s altle detail. And every time I , it’s just as scary as t.”
Miyake poked tip of a branc back in place.
“It’s so real, I feel as if I’ve already died imes.”
“art he dream?”
“ay, remember me alone. A year . . . no, t all. I o be okay for me. But no. t as I o t started up again. And once it gets going, thing I can do.”
Miyake shook his head.
“I’m sorry, Jun, I really s be telling you tories.”
“Yes you s a cigarette betch, inhaling a deep lungful of smoke. “Go on.”
ts end. tra drifto t Junko t the ocean sounded louder.
“ter called Jack London,” Miyake began.
“Sure, te about the fire.”
“t’s ime, o die by droely sure