Monday morning. Miyazaki, a single man who lives a lazy day and night reversal life day after day, rubbed his sleepy eyes and headed for the garbage dump to put out the PET bottles that had accumulated in the room this week. You said "Good morning", huh? I looked back. It was a beautiful wife, Kamihata, who lives in the next room of the condominium. While giving a nod, "Good morning," Miyazaki's gaze was drawn to a single streak that emerged in the unprotected, pants-look clothing crotch that digged into the lady's pats in the next room.
