It’s on the third floor, no air conditioning, and I tell you, when that midday sun hits those old windows, the place turns into a sauna. I must have lost ten pounds just sitting there on his double bed stripped of sheets, watching Myles get ready for our little country escapade.
His bedroom, I have to say, is clean and quite pleasing, decorated in a Japanese style, very minimal, black, white and a touch of persimmon red, but then he has these great big posters that bring a burst of color to the room. One is of Mount Fuji at sunset. And the other is of a Japanese cherry orchard. He also has a laughing Buddha in the corner of his room where he burns this exquisite incense that I smell on his clothes sometimes.
“This one or this one?” He held up two sleeveless T-shirts. One white. One dark blue.