THE girl taking into consideration THE DRAGON. Above the low, glossy black lacquer table, the sore spot whiteness of the airline ticket stood out next-door to a serving bottle of sake and an ochoko[1]. The rain sounded, pretending to drown out the voice of Lie To Me[2], and percussed in the meninges of both as if it were a issue of the nippy Roland TR-808 and TR-909 rhythm boxes, valuable in electronic music. And there, there they were, face to face, without smoke, without others to fill a non-existent track or MDMA to cloud their reasoning or neon lights to illuminate them. -Is that all? -Monique finally blurted out, in cold Japanese, taking into account the water dancing nearly the torii of Itsukushima Shrine. Her question was not answered in imitation of words flowing from Stas lips, but taking into consideration his case of moving his feet upon the tatami to withdraw. For a few seconds, brief, intense and bitter, comparable to the taste of the dregs of her last mug of t...