The sun set on a quiet winter day and they fell off into a faraway cavernous thought space with music playing off a box radio plugged in and hung up over the sink with bungees so they could access it from the bed, too heavy to move. Time got lost in their blindness of it.
the difficulty was not with tsundoku so much as it was with society and the tendency they had to work and work and work the plentiful jobs none of which supplied the proper income to live on the blade
they acquired the skin of a melon ... layers upon layers of bruised rejection ... exterior to a sweetness saved for the one true love they had yet to lay eyes on