This aging restaurant in my trying-to-modernize-to-ride-the-SkyTree-wave neighborhood is closing its doors after what must be decades of business. The announcement is this message, its impersonal tone counter-balanced by the neat handwriting and careful taping.
Countless passerbys must have corrected the kanji in their minds - 突.
"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
Sparrow Noise
Birthday walk home
"Dear Cigarettes"