Dispatch № 9: Sleepless Quiet
Slipping on my hanten and loosely tying the front is now second nature. I barely even notice having done it.
Dispatch № 8: A Surprisingly Deep Bowl
How many organisms does it take to make a bowl of soup? If it’s miso soup, the answer is usually around nine. Surprised?
Dispatch № 7: In a Vast, Sleepy Valley
In sleep, our world balloons endlessly as our dreams spin fibers of imagination into vast tapestries of otherness. These are dotted with peculiar structures of meaning, the significance of which flees quickly upon sleep’s end.
Dispatch № 6: Last Stop
The train platform felt like a floating boat dock, surging and swaying underfoot. This was bad. I struggled to keep my balance, trying hard not to stumble while standing still. The surrounding people must have thought I was drunk, which wouldn’t have been out of place on that Friday night in Roppongi.
Dispatch № 4: Garbage Day
There was a sad-looking plastic bag on the landing in front of my apartment door. The contents were mixed: the tray from a convenience store boxed lunch, an empty cigarette pack, two PET bottles, and several beer cans.
Dispatch № 3: Cozy, Not Cramped
It’s not as if I didn’t know the apartment was small. I had seen the pictures and floor plan. But when I opened the door for the first time, a wave of near-panic washed over me.