The next day, the hospital came to life. It had snowed overnight. The thousand some odd dwarf pines growing in the front yard of the sanatorium were uniformly capped with snow, while all thirty of the steps down to the beach, and the sand for that matter, were covered with a modest dusting. The snow fell off and on until the middle of the day. Yozo was in bed, lying on his belly as he sketched the snowy landscape. He'd sent Mano out to buy a pad of charcoal paper and a pencil but had only...