It’s fresh raw tuna, enveloped in su-meshi, enveloped in nori, soon to be enveloped in sushi-grade Kikkoman soy sauce mixed with that dollop of wasabi, and finally enveloped by my mouth. Yup, that’s what enveloped means to me. I’m easy. And hungry.
“What does “enveloped” mean to you? It could be your post-bath toddler wrapped burrito-style in a huge fuzzy towel. How about the ever-present fog that meanders through your city? Is it the well-loved hammock you lie in devouring novels as if they were candy? Maybe it’s your favorite fluffy comforter, edges worn from love and use?”