{"id":111,"date":"2016-10-02T10:21:22","date_gmt":"2016-10-02T10:21:22","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/dev.shortstorydayafrica.org\/?p=111"},"modified":"2016-10-02T10:21:22","modified_gmt":"2016-10-02T10:21:22","slug":"plans-for-world-domination-an-interview-with-writerprompt-winner-lester-hashimoto","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/shortstorydayafrica.org\/?p=111","title":{"rendered":"Plans for “…world domination.” An Interview with #WriterPrompt winner, Lester Hashimoto"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n

Are you really you?<\/strong><\/p>\n

Morning light has yet to cross our feet. Calluses bump his. They are beautiful. I know them well. I look at mine and hide them under his leg; they need more mileage. 
Burnished skin stretches over his length; it contains him, his strength, his every potential. I draw the tip of my finger to his nipple. It hardens. He stirs. 
The toilet is hot. It is summer and I have forgotten to leave the window open. A drop of sweat rolls down my back. My pee hits the water in a thick stream.<\/p>\n

His embrace awaits me.
Morning, says his sleepy smile.
I climb into his arms. They enfold me, like petals.
\u201cHow did you sleep?\u201d I always ask.
\u201cMmmmm,\u201d he always says.
\u201cLast night was good.\u201d
A kiss is his reply.
He runs his nail across my chest and flicks my nipple. It puckers up.
His face, his brow defy wrinkling; his mouth stays set; his eyes dart from side to side, over the whole of mine, and I wonder what he is looking for.
My eyes are calm, an antidote to the fever in his.
He climbs atop. His weight pinches my arm to the bed. I smile.
\u201cI want you,\u201d he says.
\u201cYou have all of me,\u201d I say because he is perfect.
His lips brush mine and I wonder, again, \u201cAre you, really you?\u201d<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/p>\n<\/p>\n<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p><\/div>\n<\/p><\/div>\n<\/figure><\/div>\n

\n

#WriterPrompt is a flash fiction writing workshop hosted by Short Story Day Africa team, on our Facebook page<\/a>. Lester Hashimoto was the winner of #WriterPrompt 10<\/a> and told us a bit about his writing routines, past and present as well as his travels. <\/h3>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

Can you tell us a little about your writing world?<\/strong><\/p>\n

LESTER:<\/strong> Writing has been sporadic. I used to teach English as a second language in Japan but have recently moved back to South Africa. In between the moving I’ve not had much chance to sit down and actually write. Before that, I used to write for an hour in the mornings.<\/p>\n

There is no ‘writing world’ for me really. I don’t know any other writers or writerly things apart from the guys I met attending a monthly workshop in Tokyo and, of course, the community at SSDA’s #WriterPrompt.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

Who are your top favourite authors?<\/strong><\/p>\n

LESTER:<\/strong> I’m fiercely non-committal, so my favorite authors are usually the ones I’m reading at the moment. In the past it has been Yukio Mishima, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Stephen King, Sidney Sheldon. I’m currently enjoying the fantastical Jorge Luis Borges.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

What writing plans do you have for the future? <\/strong><\/p>\n

LESTER:<\/strong> World domination. I started writing quite late and there is no room for modesty. I want a book deal. I want to get published.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/p>\n<\/p>\n<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p><\/div>\n<\/p><\/div>\n<\/figure><\/div>\n

\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

Lester Hashimoto has taught English as a second language in Japan for the past eight years but has recently moved back to South Africa. A short story of his has been published in Die Laughing<\/em><\/a>, the 2016 anthology of Short. Sharp. Stories<\/a>, which is part of The National Arts Festival.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

Interview by Jason Mykl Snyman<\/p>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Are you really you? Morning light has yet to cross our feet. Calluses bump his. They are beautiful. I know them well. I look at mine and hide them under his leg; they need more mileage. Burnished skin stretches over his length; it contains him, his strength, his every potential. I draw the tip of my […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[33],"tags":[29,30,102],"class_list":["post-111","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-writer-prompt","tag-writerprompt","tag-flash-fiction","tag-shortsharpstories","entry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/shortstorydayafrica.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/111","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/shortstorydayafrica.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/shortstorydayafrica.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/shortstorydayafrica.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/shortstorydayafrica.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=111"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/shortstorydayafrica.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/111\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/shortstorydayafrica.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=111"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/shortstorydayafrica.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=111"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/shortstorydayafrica.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=111"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}