two months after my japan trip, im just starting to process it all. im obsessively thinking about my next japan trip and how to bankrupt myself as fast as possible. sometimes i just intensely miss japan. god that was so good. it didn't really feel like real life, yknow what i mean? real life just makes me lowkey worried all the time, constantly.
anyway.
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Waiting, train stations.
Nagoya's train stations are quiet.
A few stops away from the bustling Nagoya station on the Tsurumai line, there is Akaike station. Straight down the Tsurumai line. Tsurumai. Crane dance. It sounds so delicate, the air feels thin.
The station is small. The only thing that separates the Akaike tracks from the tiny road beside it is a flimsy chain link, swaying a little in the crisp early spring wind.
You could sit at the station for hours and only see five people. They get off the train, adjust the scarf around their neck, and go up the stairs purposefully. Not hastily. They're not in a hurry. Nagoya rarely hurries.
The wind doesn't hurry either. It's slow, deliberate. It's cold but carries a certain sweetness of spring with it. It makes you sigh, ah, a full-mouthed breathy half-exhale.
Everything is calm. This is Nagoya. You could almost cry.
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