Dinner was three sushi rolls. Big, fat affairs, with lots of vegetables stuffed in willy-nilly, then rolled tight and trimmed neat.
They ate on her back porch, sitting on Persian-esque pillows, under a carnival tent mosquito net lit with tea candle paper lanterns that gently shifted in the breeze of a far off storm. He smiled as he dipped a chunk of rice into the soy bowl. He asked her questions, which she politely deflected. So it goes.
They drank warm Saki then lay down. They watched the silver edged clouds slowly roll over the full moon.
Thunder grumbled in the distance.