An insight into the cultural isolation of the Japanese in Canada and where it can lead. Big on despair!
'Saito-san, this is Chisako, my wife,' breathless Yani announced, pushing her in front. She seemed to dangle there, as if relinquishing herself. Something told me she'd cut her hair herself, out of spite and unhappiness, for it was unevenly trimmed in jagged clumps, hiding much of her face the way too thick, too massive Japanese hair stubbornly does unless it is kept long.