The Kawabata Scroll (fiction)

Rayburn escaped from the painful sunlight of noon. No one greeted him at the front door of the restaurant. From the floom of the foyer, he looked down the tunnel of the corridor. A man was standing behind the counter stirring a giant cauldron, skin hanging off his arms like noodles drying on an ancient rail. Something was boiling. Socks, he thought. Underwear.