The shag carpet itched and left indentations on my face as I slowly lifted my head from the floor. So as not to pull a trapezius muscle, I slowly, carefully pulled myself up to the window hazily lit by an overcast sunrise.
The unfamiliar, but welcome sight of nine and twelve-story buildings outside the window helped put the soreness in my neck out of my mind for a moment. Fog hung just above the skyline, but those painted-white pillars of steel pierced it.
I have got to find an apartment of my own.
"I'm from Libya," he said. I don't know what to say. It's as if he'd told me he'd just come from his father's funeral.
The first specialty coffee shop in Ikebukuro and Junkudo (bookstore) resonate.
Editing is interpreting.
The Riddle of Steel.
The man stands motionless in a crush of white-shirted salarymen, as they swarm past him, toward the single escalator.
Rêve de centre commercial-piscine
Birthday walk home