Strange Weather in Tokyo

by Hiromi Kawakami

And I never really acknowledged that any of them were alive in any way. I never gave any thought to the fact that they were leading the same kind of complicated life as I was.

I was pretty sure that I wasn’t very good at this whole love thing. And if being in love required so much effort, then I wasn’t sure I wanted to be a part of it anyway.

I tried to peel it the way my mother did. Partway around, the skin broke off. I suddenly burst into

tears, which took me by surprise. I was cutting an apple, not chopping onions—why should there be tears?

I drained the water from the bath and quickly scrubbed the tub, and then I pranced about my apartment, naked except for a towel twisted atop my head. It was one of those moments when I think to myself, I’m glad to be alone.