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"Vessel of Sorrow" written by Takahasi Kazumi in 1962
Chatper 17
Chatper 17
in the mediation a breach of promise of marriage
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The judge looked back at the mediation commissioner and the participant while adjusting his bow tie. The obese female mediation commissioner seemed to be eager to speak. She was said to be a practitioner and an obstetrician-gynecologist, but she looked more like a preacher of an emerging religion. Her stiff body was wrapped in a childish lace blouse, and every time she used her fan, she smelled axillary. Her thick lips were opened thinly, and she let her tongue moistened both ends of it. She would leak a vulgar opinion. I wanted to close my ears. I was about to shout, 'There is nothing to do with you.' 'It is no concern of yours.' Hiding her snobbism like hunting her prey with tongue licking behind the pompous expression of frowned face, she would fill her curiosity by making irresponsible remarks like the personal consultation section of a newspaper's three-sided article. She is not going to solve anything. She would flatter and kowtow to the blind authority, the public opinion, and the general trend. Then she wants to enjoy jealously and sadistically the bad luck of other people. She would curse the status of other people that she could not have reached. Or, she would blindly abuse people if they did similar things to her hidden past. There are only lukewarmly sympathy and masked ill‐nature of curious onlookers. - That's already enough! I have my job waiting. Even for her, rather than worrying about such a thing like this, it would be much better and comfortable to drink a glass of wine between meals and to tickle the flapping cat's neck.
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http://wisteriafield.jp/vesselofsorrow/vosindex.html
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The judge looked back at the mediation commissioner and the participant while adjusting his bow tie. The obese female mediation commissioner seemed to be eager to speak. She was said to be a practitioner and an obstetrician-gynecologist, but she looked more like a preacher of an emerging religion. Her stiff body was wrapped in a childish lace blouse, and every time she used her fan, she smelled axillary. Her thick lips were opened thinly, and she let her tongue moistened both ends of it. She would leak a vulgar opinion. I wanted to close my ears. I was about to shout, 'There is nothing to do with you.' 'It is no concern of yours.' Hiding her snobbism like hunting her prey with tongue licking behind the pompous expression of frowned face, she would fill her curiosity by making irresponsible remarks like the personal consultation section of a newspaper's three-sided article. She is not going to solve anything. She would flatter and kowtow to the blind authority, the public opinion, and the general trend. Then she wants to enjoy jealously and sadistically the bad luck of other people. She would curse the status of other people that she could not have reached. Or, she would blindly abuse people if they did similar things to her hidden past. There are only lukewarmly sympathy and masked ill‐nature of curious onlookers. - That's already enough! I have my job waiting. Even for her, rather than worrying about such a thing like this, it would be much better and comfortable to drink a glass of wine between meals and to tickle the flapping cat's neck.
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http://wisteriafield.jp/vesselofsorrow/vosindex.html
