Persimmon People

Today I asked a student what he was afraid of. I told him I'm afraid of ghosts and he said, "I'm afraid of homo." I checked, and that was really what he meant.

The persimmons at my grocery store have become rotten. I should have eaten them all before winter arrived. Now it's too late and there's nothing I can do.

The one pictured here is inside my belly since last night. I like to eat them with the skin intact, like apples. They taste better that way and I'm afraid the Japanese bodies all around me don't know what they're missing.