“You’d be more attractive if you smoked and were less of a feminist,” he slurs, sloppily, arm slung like a dead weight over my shoulder as I walk him home after yet another drunken escapade.
These words were not those of a nemesis nay, not even an acquaintance. No, instead these words came from someone…
The plates circulated like a runway at fashion week, except instead of haute couture, the models were dressed in shades of raw fish, and instead of leggy models, they were small balls of rice. I imagine I felt the same way at this Shinjuku sushi restaurant as I would have at a high-end fashion show,…