I was about to screw my self-doubt and get it over with, knowing that my regrets could occupy most of the evening, but the door swung open. She stood...in a dark purple, velvet gown that went to floor. She was gorgeous. The off-the-shoulder cut of the dress gave me visions of standing behind her, kissing up and down her neck and collar bone. She laughed at my staring and did a turn, revealing the back of the dress that dipped down to the small of her back in a large v shape. I wanted to touch. But I wished to remain alone with my thoughts. It was a beautiful spring morning, and so I took my father’s kaya-wood Go table from the house, and sat by the carp pond, idly playing with the white shell and black slate stones, placing them in ornate patterns on the wooden Go table. I chanced to look up, and there stood an old beggar. I hadn’t heard him approach, he startled me. His head was encased in a straw cage like a beehive. He carried a big walking stick of bamboo. He was bent, with age I. More

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