Biding my time, drinking her wine
I'm at 15,011 words. That's not really enough.
- I've gone to New York and Uganda for work. Work really gets in the way of NaNoWriMo.
- I went to Texas from the 4th to the 10th to meet an infant. Playing with infants in Texas really gets in the way of NaNoWriMo.
Mike and Shikashi were drawn together like two streams trickling downhill. They were mates practically before they had been introduced. Shikashi was at Nezumi's apartment, coaching her on a presentation she would give on "customer care," when Mike turned up with a bottle of rosè and a small bar of expensive dark chocolate.
Shikashi made much of the gesture, as if it were the first time a man had ever brought chocolate for a woman. "You're looking at five to life with this one," said Shikashi. "Ne-chan adores chocolate. She needs to have chocolate every day. Every day!" Here, Mike had thought, is a regular guy. Someone I can talk music with, have a beer with, and discuss females in a non-objectifying way, without the pervasive threat of conflict.
"Thanks for painting such a flattering picture of me, Shikashi." Mike noticed that she pronounced the name with two syllables, the final “i” dropped.
"You're just like me," Mike told her. "If the day is winding down and I haven't had chocolate, I have to - have to - go to the store.
"Ne-chan takes out the trash compulsively because she can't stand to see the chocolate wrappers pile up!" said Shikashi gleefully.
"I'm glad that my, um, disorder is so amusing to you,” said Nezumi. “I'm glad we can all laugh about it.”
“Dude,” Shikashi addressed Mike, “When our dad goes to Kobe, he brings this amazing chocolate back. 'Namachoco.' It's stupid good.”
“It is,” agreeed Nezumi. “It's undistilled evil covered in powdered cocoa.”
“Chocolate is for lonely people. You know that, right?” Shikashi said, directing the remark more toward Mike than Nezumi. “It's a substitute for sex. We comfort ourselves with it, reward ourselves with it, and it becomes an obsession. Some people say that the only cure for chocolate addiction is a fulfilling relationship.” He was idly doodling chocolate squares on one of Nezumi's printouts. “Chocolate cravings mirror lows in our lives, and tend to follow temporal patterns. Most people eat chocolate at night.” He held the doodles at arm's length, admiring them. “Myself, I don't really like chocolate.”
Are any of you familiar with Murakami Haruki's Norwegian Wood? That's what this novel is turning into. Must do something about that before all my characters off themselves.