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The Umbrellas of Tokyo
The Umbrellas of Tokyo
The Umbrellas of Tokyo
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The Umbrellas of Tokyo

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Tokyo can be a strange place to live. Especially if you're from another country. The sprawling city is a whole extraordinary world in itself.
Felicity loves living there.
And she loves to sing. She sings for crowds in the clubs of Tokyo. She thrives on the energy and bustle. Of the clubs, and of the subways on her ride home.
Even if it does rain a whole lot. Even if she's lost her umbrella.

A quirky short story by Sean Monaghan, author of "Concentration".

LanguageEnglish
Release dateSep 24, 2017
ISBN9781370453948
The Umbrellas of Tokyo
Author

Sean Monaghan

Award-winning author, Sean Monaghan has published more than one hundred stories in the U.S., the U.K., Australia, and in New Zealand, where he makes his home. A regular contributor to Asimov’s, his story “Crimson Birds of Small Miracles”, set in the art world of Shilinka Switalla, won both the Sir Julius Vogel Award, and the Asimov’s Readers Poll Award, for best short story. He is a past winner of the Jim Baen Memorial Award, and the Amazing Stories Award. Sean writes from a nook in a corner of his 110 year old home, usually listening to eighties music. Award-winning author, Sean Monaghan has published more than one hundred stories in the U.S., the U.K., Australia, and in New Zealand, where he makes his home. A regular contributor to Asimov’s, his story “Crimson Birds of Small Miracles”, set in the art world of Shilinka Switalla, won both the Sir Julius Vogel Award, and the Asimov’s Readers Poll Award, for best short story. He is a past winner of the Jim Baen Memorial Award, and the Amazing Stories Award. Sean writes from a nook in a corner of his 110 year old home, usually listening to eighties music.

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    Book preview

    The Umbrellas of Tokyo - Sean Monaghan

    The Umbrellas of Tokyo

    Copyright 2017 by Sean Monaghan

    All rights reserved

    Cover Art: © Igor Chirikov | Dreamstime

    Published by Triple V Publishing

    Author web page

    www.seanmonaghan.com

    This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. All rights reserved.

    This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

    This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

    Smashwords Edition.

    Contents

    Chapter One

    Chapter Two

    Chapter Three

    Chapter Four

    Chapter Five

    Chapter Six

    Chapter Seven

    Chapter Eight

    Chapter Nine

    Chapter Ten

    Chapter Eleven

    Chapter Twelve

    About the author

    Other Books by Sean Monaghan

    Links

    CHAPTER ONE

    The train’s passenger numbers seemed slim tonight, Felicity thought as she boarded, still surprised by Hiroto’s outburst.

    Felicity grabbed a still swinging loop, the plastic stiff and slick in her hand. Around her hangdog salarymen stood, gripping the rungs, tired students ran highlighters through vast Kanji tracts, grinning schoolgirls on their way home from the parks with their Minnie Mouse keychains and hair ties giggled about new souvenirs.

    Back home, people would call the carriage crowded. Overcrowded. Felicity was glad of standing room. Unlike other nights, she had to grip the loop and not rely on the sheer crush of humanity to stay upright.

    She felt at the edge of hangdog herself. First show out of the chorus and she’d flubbed a line. Hiroto was not happy.

    Through the smell of cool rain and the bright washes of red and blue streaks in the patina of black clothes, Felicity spotted another Westerner.

    She watched him for a moment. He seemed focused on the rocking join between carriages.

    Funny, she thought to herself, that she’d stopped thinking of making conversation, of even smiling. Tourists, so often lost, fumbling for their rail passes, confused about the coins and banknotes.

    Like she’d fumbled that line. A song she’d sung so many times, practiced waiting for her chance at understudy.

    The man looked

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