Safety

Twelve baby boomers fondle this construction site every morning. Three of them pound housing framework into the ground while the rest either supervise or direct traffic. They turn on their glowsticks in the oppressive sunshine, and usher me across the sleepy residential street with an eager concern for safety (the sign posted at their workspace confirms that, to them, being safe is priority number one--more important, even, than the house those other three are erecting). I know that they go home and dream of all the human lives they will protect tomorrow. No one else on this street would ever conceive of it, but I feel like benevolently stealing their little boots so I can write my name by holding a pencil between my toes while wearing shoes. I won't, though. That's no way to treat the guardians of my mortal life.

"Shall we drink Calpis sour with me? Maybe this is my confession for her."

The skeleton boy unbuttoned his shirt and began counting his tiny nipples, attached by threads to a gaping ribcage. The third one, he said, was a relic from the time they stuck a tube into his lung to prevent his young death.

I asked why he didn't try to live instead of trying to die. He declared that he didn't know how but he was certain my forehead could teach him.

We were all charmed. The corpse of Kotaro had us in an uproar, to be sure, our fleshy faces warm with his words and ewok eyes. He lit up the room, but his own spirit was dim. And while we basked in appreciation for a rare and precious humor, he sat alone in the center, begging me to join him. It was because he loved his mother, he said, that he was not already dead.

Overstaffed

There are two guardsmen at Shibuya station in royal blue uniforms. They avoid eye contact with grim confidence. One of them sticks out his lower lip, the way old people sometimes resemble bald babies. With all their might, these guards stand in front of a temporary wall which conceals a construction zone. Their gloved hands rise in defense of the wall as bodies trickle closer and closer to it during the rush hours. No one knows what might occur in the absence of these two priceless men, but most of us feel grateful that we'll never be given the chance to find out.