Two men scratch a chat over plates of oatmeal and sausages in Hotel Marlowe where they attend a literature conference. One asks the other where he’s from. “Memphis.” The word rolls like a coin across the table. (He’s worked in that blues city for two decades.) Then he adds, like serving the shuttlecock underhand from below waist height, “I’m originally from South Korea.” The receiver hits the shuttlecock, “Oh, I thought you were from Japan. I taught English there ten years ago.”
Tokyo tour
asking for directions
with a note in kanji