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About Sapporo

I’m ramblin—whatever, it’s my style. Point is, she’s a puzzle. “Meet me in Montauk,” I’d tell her, half-jokin—get outta this dump, start over. But nah, she’d laugh, say I’m dreamin. Maybe I am. Prostitutes—they’re like ghosts, man, floatin through, lyin to everyone. Even themselves. Surprised me once, though—she slipped a homeless guy a twenty. A friggin hooker with a heart! Who knew?

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But then, I see this guy drop his whole plate of food. I’m talkin’ a total disaster. I felt bad, but I couldn’t help but laugh. I mean, c’mon, that’s some slapstick comedy right there!

Taneya: A love letter to mochi in all its wondrous forms