The Art of Compression

At that moment, he splashed into the pond. The thin man, who had been holding his right hand, had suddenly let go. “Oh!” “He fell!” “He fell!” The onlookers were all clamoring for a better view when they were suddenly pushed from behind and plunged into the pond, too. The thin man’s clear, high laughter could be heard above the uproar. The thin man scampered across the bridge like a black dog and ran off into the dark town. “He ran away!” “Damn it!” “Was he a pickpocket?” “A madman?” “A detective?” “He’s the tengu of Ueno Mountain!” “He’s the kappa of Shinobazu Pond!”

for summer     she needs pretty dress     cotton

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