You do the same things you do more or less every day - you get up, wash your face - but everything feels a little different, as if you were doing those things for the first time.
You move in the dark, afraid of waking up your family; your breakfast consists of a grand total of two cookies because at 6:00 a.m. your stomach is still asleep, and you don't want to wake it up either.
Leaving home in semi darkness feels like entering a parallel universe.
You step outside, and everything is still and calm, like frozen in time.
When you take your first steps, you feel like Armstrong walking on the moon. You look up at the sky and the moon is up there, pale and reassuring.
You try to move through the streets as noiselessly as possible. Then your reverie is interrupted by the ear-splitting noise of the newspaper delivery boy on its rickety scooter.
And on the final stretch, the sun shines just in front of you.
And you are ready for a new day.
Good morning…
If you are new to Tokyo Calling, this is an ongoing series of daily sketches. I hope you like it. If you don’t, please don’t despair: the usual, longer posts are on their way. In the meantime, you can explore my vast archive - more than 200 essays so far.
Nicely written, Gianni!
Reminds me of the first scene from Perfect Days!