In a Little Apartment in Osaka

A burgeoning heart suffers and cannot truly numb the pain, evident even through the jackhammer of alcohol throbbing through his veins, woeful with the continual and continuous deadlines and unpaid overtime–the miscarriage of his wife and their developing divorce.  “Life is suffering,” claims correctly several religions, and they know that man was born this way, but they do not know that he was necessarily made this way, crafted in the hands of a greening mother preparing her children confidently to survive–not to thrive.