i was watching kudermetova and paolini play tennis. p. hit the ball, k. swung and missed and the ball lodged between her legs, then she hit it with the edge of her racket backwards with no noticeable expression. then a black wasp flew by my face, i shut it between the window and screen and came with a yogurt container, scooped it up and released it from the fire escape. i'm reading osamu dazai, the setting sun. i don't use recipes.