小説「珠（たま）」の日、英、仏、西語版、4冊がすべて手元にそろいました！ 夢にさえ見たことがない夢が、現実として目の前にあります！
（Amazon）
（Amazon）
Smiling as I Fell
I really cannot say why I fell. The sensation of a sudden vacuum inside my ear. And then, for a split second, a popping sound within my eardrum, as though my ear was collapsing inwards, as though the bones were crushed inside the cochlea, creating a rattling noise, and vaguely reminding me of the anatomy of the inner ear. And then a more explosive crack, and at the same time the sound of a woman’s shrill cry, followed by the laughter of light-hearted girls. And then a more triumphant tone, like that of Mozart’s soprano Papagena in The Magic Flute. The sounds spread out through the air, over the buildings of the city like squawking birds. I was terrified, my body petrified like a piece of wood, my limbs seized by rigor mortis. I felt myself being pulled, as if a sticky thread
had been glued to me, tracing a line attached to the cochlea, and becoming worse the more the pulling sensation increased. Falling into this whirlwind, my temple hit a stone, blood spurted, then a tremendous crash, as if all the windows of a building had broken, raining down a hail of glass shards. I could not understand why in broad daylight I was plunged into the darkness of a cellar. “Ha! Am I inside a seashell?” I cried, imagining myself at the very bottom of the interior of a giant conch shell. There was a powerful, deafening sound, like a long roar, as if someone was blowing into the conch shell. Then the sound of trumpets, ominous, threatening. Somehow, above all, I had to avoid becoming dispossessed of what I was carrying. A Pearl, which I held closely, and polished constantly. It had not been damaged in the turmoil. I had to keep in mind that the Pearl was a treasure to be protected at all costs, and in my confusion, my worst fear was that it would be stolen. Obviously, someone wanted to take it. Maybe the ear-splitting soprano! Why not? I felt I saw her sharp eyes on me, gloomy shadows floating in mid-air. I felt sure she was approaching in the form of a demon, and I clung to my treasure, which I would have defended to the death, rather than let her have it. In a mental confusion of nightmarish apparitions I thought that whatever happened I must fight this enemy. I seemed to be drawing a veil after me, defining a graceful curve, and drifting on the air. Pure white images floated before me. A feeling of resentment set in, a groaning wave of anger, which
made me want to resist. The next moment I was certain of only one thing: I was utterly exhausted. Then the evil presence vanished, I collapsed, and I found myself being sucked, floating slowly down into the depths of a spiral-sided cave. (The Pearl/Yujin Koyama/Amazon)
I really cannot say why I fell. The sensation of a sudden vacuum inside my ear. And then, for a split second, a popping sound within my eardrum, as though my ear was collapsing inwards, as though the bones were crushed inside the cochlea, creating a rattling noise, and vaguely reminding me of the anatomy of the inner ear. And then a more explosive crack, and at the same time the sound of a woman’s shrill cry, followed by the laughter of light-hearted girls. And then a more triumphant tone, like that of Mozart’s soprano Papagena in The Magic Flute. The sounds spread out through the air, over the buildings of the city like squawking birds. I was terrified, my body petrified like a piece of wood, my limbs seized by rigor mortis. I felt myself being pulled, as if a sticky thread
had been glued to me, tracing a line attached to the cochlea, and becoming worse the more the pulling sensation increased. Falling into this whirlwind, my temple hit a stone, blood spurted, then a tremendous crash, as if all the windows of a building had broken, raining down a hail of glass shards. I could not understand why in broad daylight I was plunged into the darkness of a cellar. “Ha! Am I inside a seashell?” I cried, imagining myself at the very bottom of the interior of a giant conch shell. There was a powerful, deafening sound, like a long roar, as if someone was blowing into the conch shell. Then the sound of trumpets, ominous, threatening. Somehow, above all, I had to avoid becoming dispossessed of what I was carrying. A Pearl, which I held closely, and polished constantly. It had not been damaged in the turmoil. I had to keep in mind that the Pearl was a treasure to be protected at all costs, and in my confusion, my worst fear was that it would be stolen. Obviously, someone wanted to take it. Maybe the ear-splitting soprano! Why not? I felt I saw her sharp eyes on me, gloomy shadows floating in mid-air. I felt sure she was approaching in the form of a demon, and I clung to my treasure, which I would have defended to the death, rather than let her have it. In a mental confusion of nightmarish apparitions I thought that whatever happened I must fight this enemy. I seemed to be drawing a veil after me, defining a graceful curve, and drifting on the air. Pure white images floated before me. A feeling of resentment set in, a groaning wave of anger, which
made me want to resist. The next moment I was certain of only one thing: I was utterly exhausted. Then the evil presence vanished, I collapsed, and I found myself being sucked, floating slowly down into the depths of a spiral-sided cave. (The Pearl/Yujin Koyama/Amazon)