It's been quieter than usual.
JA's holed up in his dark office, agonizing over an equipment report. Elizabeth and I have been bent over "Recommended Components" blurbs all day. I've become tired — my eyes can only catch so many bad breaks and ugly indentations — and so have spent the last ten minutes browsing Komegashi's online menu. I don't usually drink sake, but the idea of it now, with you, is wonderful. A hot lover roll might be nice, too. We'll sit by the windows and watch the boats dance in the wind. The lights across the water will blink their little songs.
I don't care how much money we spend tonight, honey; this was payday. I remember reading something Hemingway said about keeping track. I really can't recall too much, so I shouldn't even mention it. He said something like: it's not a party if you're keeping track of your cash. Something like that.
We'll keep track later. Tonight, we'll have a party.
We'll then walk home through the cold and listen to the hi-fi. We've got new speakers to try out; the cherry Totem Arros are waiting for us. I know you'll love them. They offer that deep bass that's so important to you. And they're small, made to fit nicely in these little apartments of ours. They say you can place one over here, and the other way over there, and they'll still create a wide soundstage with solid, lifelike images. I don't know how it works. But I'll make up some technical talk, if that's what makes you happy.
This weekend's forecast warns of snow, you know. It's becoming awful cold. If the wind blows too hard through our forgiving windows, perhaps we'll light up the Moscode. The tubes will keep us warm. We can sit down on the floor and let the music blanket us. Let's listen to that song you like.
I'm tired, but not too tired.
