Found In Tokyo
Fero… It has been nine years and I still remember her fondly. On the airport, before we parted ways, she said, “I’ll send you a letter once I’ve arrived at Tokyo.” We separated with a kiss, and that was the last one; I haven’t heard from her since.
The memories feel bittersweet.
“A Venti Americano please.”
“Etoo… Venti Americano… five-hundred yen,” the Starbucks cashier says as she gestures with her hand. I hand some coins to her.
My colleagues are there, in the corner, talking to our Japanese client. Today is the first day of our meeting, and I can already tell that it’s going to be boring. But, it pays t—
“Dous?!” someone exclaims. The voice sounds familiar. I look behind.
December 5, 2021