Time

Is it always good to go back to the past? When you revisit somewhere from your past after so long and only fragments of the physical place remain but the people and the context are long gone, what is it? It becomes a kind of perverted theme park recreation made by a third party. Outsourced and then contracted out for production in preparation for your visit. I thought the street went straight to that station, but I actually had to turn left. Was it like that all those years ago? Has the world warped since then or has my memory begun to fade?

I take a bite of the tofu donut from the shop I always used to go to by the station. The flavor is exactly the same, the smell, the man at the counter, and the tiny plastic bag they give it to you in. My eyes become hot with tears, and it hurts to swallow as I keep eating the donut until there is nothing left.

Sometimes people and places are best left in the past.

I take one last look as I walk up the steps to the station.

Thank you.

Ghosts

After dinner, he asks me to tell him about my ghost experiences, so I begin rattling off the main ones and where the whole vision came from in my family. I’m probably halfway through the second story when he puts his hand on my shoulder, “I don’t want to hear any more; sorry, I got scared.”

I turn around and apologize, “Sorry, I thought you wanted to hear them.”

“Well, I thought you were just making it up, but your stories are too real; they’re just like the ones my parents used to tell me.”

“Well, I’m not making them up.”

“My family runs a shrine back in Kyoto, so I’ve experienced and heard enough to know what’s real and what’s made up.”

“Anyway, let’s change the topic.”

We start talking about the soft scream from Mini-Stop instead.

Cigarettes

For old times’ sake, I smoked while I was in Tokyo. I don’t know why, but I felt like it. I know it’s bad for my health, my skin, and everything.

One night, a guy I had met and I were sitting on his balcony, and he was telling me about the people he was currently dating. He turns to me and asks if he could see photos from when I was younger, so I pulled some up. He swipes through them excitedly, “If I met you looking like that, I would have dated you in an instant.” I laughed and then took another puff. What he said was rude, but I didn’t care so much. “Was that rude?” “Yeah, kind of.” “Sorry, I mean, you still look fine now.” “You don’t need to try and back track. You’ll be having this conversation with someone younger than you someday, and you’ll remember this.” We sat there in silence for a while, and he leaned in to hug me. We didn’t say anything and just looked up at the sky.

The Heart Beats Again

I’m waiting at Shinjuku Sanchome Station Exit B2, leaning on the railing along the edge of the footpath. He comes up the stairs, and we lock eyes.

We smile at each other, a slightly perplexed, dumbfounded look on both his face and mine. In that moment, I sense the bond. As we hug, I feel a familiar embrace.

Where this would go, I had (and still have no idea). For now, I will follow the feeling.

Question

I’m nursing a strong ice latte one late morning in Shinsen, and the barista is telling me about the girl he was dating from Europe. “Every time we went to Shinjuku Station, she would have a panic attack, and I had to carry her out. Is this common in Australia too?” I took one more sip before I opened my mouth to speak.

Pink Party

I’m dancing around in a euphoric state. I’m offered a gift and graciously accept. It holds more than I thought, and I know the next hour is going to be a ride. “I think I’ll need to hold onto you,” I say to my friend who I just met on the Friday. He turns to me and without hesitation responds, “Hold on tight, I’ve got you.” From there, we leave the party and jump into another world. Everything is joining up and becoming an infinite loop. Everyone’s skin becomes the color of the lights dancing on them, and for a short moment, I wonder if I have died. I realize it doesn’t bother me too much; if this is my moment, then so be it. I inhabit this world for what feels like years. I see people grow old and change and continue to dance. I see people from my past, present, and future interacting without the shackles of time and space. Everything is so harmonious. After my years-long visit, I return to the dance floor, a little wobbly on my feet but still holding on tight. I check my watch, and it’s only been 30 minutes.

Past Life

The sun is already rising, and we’ve come back to my hotel room. We get in the shower and talk casually as we wash each other before drying off and moving towards the bed. We’re both standing naked, facing each other, looking in fascination and amusement. “Why do I feel like I know you?” “I don’t know. It’s weird, isn’t it?” We embrace and let our lips touch. A familiar feeling, and I laugh as we kiss. “What?” He laughs too. “It just feels like we’ve done this before.” “Yeah, I know.” We draw closer as we continue, occasionally laughing as we tangle further and further.