Throat buddha floats while all of Japan burns.

Detached from the burning bodies he stares.

I have taken your saint.

There are no treasures in the wasteland, no answers.

Yet we shift through the ashes.

The fat general cracks the skull for the last time.

A flutter of the shedding of a Kimono.

Shush, have this. Mum hands me a can of Sakuma drops.

*click click* *click click* *click click*
Sounds of clinking chopsticks. *click click*
*click click* *click click* *click click*

We feast.