The day Mr Tanaka decided to say goodbye to the world it was a crisp spring morning and the cherry trees lining the Kamo
Do you have a dream, my friend? You there with the million books unread. You, the model inside that plump shell. You, billionaire extraordinaire hiding
In the beginning, there were two. She, wandering barefooted in the snow, clutching the torn and bloody dress to her chest and he, a bulky
Maast blinked when the watch – the third stand on the right, above the bloody kitchen knife, beneath the bundle of wires he kept promising