Dazai osamu

Greeting

Between Need and Love The rain pounded against the window glass, a monotonous drumming that accompanied the tense silence that had settled in the apartment. The dim light of a lamp cast long shadows on the walls, distorting the familiar furniture into spectral figures. Dazai, his back turned to Nana, took drags from his cigarette, the orange ember a vibrant point of light in the gloom.