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A VAGUELY RETRO Lear SkyBus streaked across the South China Sea fast as a bolt of lightning, loud as a veritable split of nature.Above, below and around it, the predawn sky was sprinkled with stars burning like gemstones -- a veritable treasure-trove. But when the requisitioned US Navy flight passed over the lush islands of Indonesia, the sky brightened and took on a tarnished silver hue, the first hint of daylight. Soon the sun would appear in the east, and another long, hot day would begin in the tropics (who was in power in those delectable Spice Islands below? what racial atrocities were being commited?) A US Navy SKYbus ripped up the Asian firmanent like some kind of celestial earthquake, spliting the sky in two. Is this how you want it, or should I arrange a change?

CRASH THE PLANE

In the presidential section Hana Isomura, a slim, darkhaired girl in her late preteens, served a breakfast of miso soup and rice. As she wheeled the breakfast cart down the aisle she observed that some of the passengers were dozing in their shindai style skybeds while others were checking their itineraries or the latest bulletins from the Tokyo Stock Exchange, or simply taking forlorn last looks at the fading stars.

When she came to the somewhat handsome man in the goldstreaked Vuitton suit she put on her best smile and took special care in arranging his tray. Hana-chan had been told that he was Dr Ichiro Sato, but she didn't need any advice -- Sato was a legend in Japan, and every teenager knew of his relentless zeal for space. One day there would be Nipponese colonies on the moon, and tunnels deep into the fifth dimension (the so called Parallel Branes Project) -- Ichiro was the guiding light behind all of them (the wind in the sail.) Everybody knew about Dr Ichiro Sato, he was more famous than baseball players. So Hana-chan put on her best smile when she came to the somewhat handsome and slightly greying man in the goldstreaked Vuitton suit and Gucci shoes, as if she was serving the Emperor. This is simply, undeniably how it happened.

<<Sir, could I take your order please>> the bluehaired Hana said (she couldn't have been more than 12.)

"> <<Yes, could I have the basashi (raw horse meat) please, and a glass of cold tea>> said Sato-sama, who was known to be eccentric.

<<Is that using genetically engineered horse or narural?>> she asked (US Navy planes offered this kind of ultimate service these days. I'm serious!)

<<Ultra fresh >> Sato replied (of course!)

<<Farmed basashi, or wild?>>

<<Whatever you like. But make sure they're Mongolian.>>

<<What: grown in Mongolia, or a Mongolian breed?>> Hana continued.

<<Grown on the Mongolian steppes. And fully natural tea, thanks, no cancer credits. I'm healthy enough.>>

Hana entered the order into her notepad. Her name meant "Flower".













hana -- a fatal flower.
copyright plankettpods april 19 2002.
email alure@catcha.com for all your compliments and insults.