PREVIEW
... m trying to figure out what to say, but she’s talking so much that I can’t think straight.
Like the story of that tortoiseshell cat that Sendai-san often meets.
Or the not-so-sweet French toast we had for lunch.
The blanks are filled with innocuous stories chosen from a number of topics, my head is filled, and I have nothing to say. All I can do is make small talk.
We get on the train, we get off the train.
The sun loses its power and the sky changes color ...
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