there is a garden in her face, where roses and white lilies grow.
a heavenly paradise is that place, wherein all pleasant fruits do grow

(tokushima station department store, otoko no hi)

at the restaurant : voice

the lady behind the counter sang the orders back into the kitchen. one could hear many people talk and still, when she sang, her voice pierced the backround noise. upright she sat behind the counter, her hair tight.

i recall - being driven home one evening, by an old gentleman, he started to sing, encouraging us also to sing something - he knew more german and english songs than we did, even the lyrics - remembering turkey where one could hear women in the streets sing, just like that.

we got the food all in the same time and not one after one, like it's usual in western restaurants.
every one as part of a painting.

to use the sticks for noodlesoups was a pleasure
for me, even though it was wrong.