a device that allows everyone to contact us at any moment, then spend our lives trying to escape it.”
Yuki stared at him for a second before laughing.
The man seemed pleased with himself.
“I’m Kenji,” he said. “Retired professor, occasional gardener, and a man who has recently discovered that retirement does not automatically make tomatoes cooperate.”
“Yuki,” she replied.
He nodded toward the empty space a short distance away.
“Would you mind if I sat there? I promise not to lecture you about physics unless you specifically request it.”
“Are you a physics professor?”
“Retired. Which means I can tell people I’m an expert and blame the university if I’m wrong.”
She laughed again, more naturally this time.
Kenji sat down, leaving enough distance between them to make it clear that he was not trying to intrude. He opened his lemonade and offered her the second bottle he had
