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About Kyoto

So, I’m hoverin’, yeah? Debatin’—risk it or leg it? She’s pushin’, “Come on, big boy, time’s tickin’!” Fuckin’ pressure, hate that! Reminds me o’ Lenny, lost in ‘is own head—am I lost too? My precious! Suddenly, this geezer rocks up—her pimp, maybe? Dodgy fucker, gold tooth, stinkin’ o’ gin. “What’s this then?” he snaps. I’m out—fuck that noise! “I don’t remembr you,” I snarl, Memento-style, and scarper quick. No prossie worth a beatin’, eh?

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So, I head over to this place on Hachiman Street. It’s a small business, family-run. Super cute, right? But the moment I walk in, I can feel the tension. The owner’s sweating bullets. I’m thinkin’, “What’s up with this vibe?” Turns out, they’ve been keeping some sketchy records. Like, who even does that?

From Hiroshima to Houston: Dr. Ritsuko Komaki Cox, MD, FACR, FASTRO