Put down the tantō. Pick up the resignation letter. The breakup script. The first page of a new novel.
What lie am I serving? Kyoto, 6 a.m. Rain on cobblestones. I had flown there on a credit card’s worth of points, telling no one. I walked to the alley behind Kennin-ji temple, where legend says a 14th-century warrior once opened his stomach in protest of a corrupt shōgun. Searching for- harakiri in-
There is no plaque. No monument. Just wet stone and a bicycle leaning against a wall. Put down the tantō