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Seimei is seated in a booth with a Mac laptop, a paper ledger and a disorganized layer of papers. They range from rather casually written missives inscribed with ballpoint pens on pages torn from legal pads to very formal documents printed on official-looking stationery emblazoned with seals to thick, more primitive varieties of paper written in various archaic forms of Japanese by means of calligraphy brushes.

The Obon Festival starts in about ten days, and just about everyone in the Land of the Rising Sun - including the gods themselves - is busy making preparations.

This particular god isn't too busy for a chat, though.

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"Well, when I say 'years ago,' I mean 'two hundred years ago.' But you may have left long before then, with the Hellenes and Romans long gone. By the way, which Muse are you, if you don't consider it an impertinent question?"

"No." She smiles. "My domain is tragic verse. I like to think I've had an influence on at least a few good tragedies."

"In my country, you almost certainly have. In fact, I think we have been paying homage to you for a long time without knowing it. We love tragedy - it is partly a matter of pride, and partly a matter of Buddhism."

She tilts her head, interest piqued.

"Oh? Sounds like my kind of place. I've never actually been to the East, more's the shame."

"Things have changed somewhat in the recent past," Seimei says. By 'recent past' he means 'last fifty years.' "People don't appreciate art the way they used to. But there are books of poetry and stories, and there are old-style plays. I know there are still performances of The Forty-Seven Ronin from time to time."

"Sounds vaguely familiar," she says. "Probably seen the movie."

She adds, more seriously, "It's good, to keep that tradition alive."

"I agree. I'm a great believer in tradition. Although unlike some of my colleagues..." He lifts up one of the pieces of paper, which reminds him of things he used to see back in the Heian era. "...I do not think that just because something sufficed centuries ago, it will be just fine now."

"Well, sometimes it can be for the best to mix things up a little," she says doubtfully, looking at the paper.

Seimei sniffs. "I don't mind getting poems or invitations in the old style, or sending them for that matter, but by merciful Kannon I wish they could bring themselves to use e-mail for practical purposes."

She laughs. "I don't many gods who use email. After all, it's not very traditional."

"That is exactly how they think about it. Some of my colleagues have a more sensible perspective. Mostly they are mortals elevated to godhood, like myself. Although Okami Inari isn't one of those, and she is quite comfortable using a cell phone for text messages and the like."

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