Strange Weather in Tokyo

by Hiromi Kawakami

He would write something in chalk, like the first line of The Pillow Book by Sei Shonagon: In spring it is the dawn that is most beautiful. And then, not five minutes later, he would erase it.

“Tsukiko, when you see a handsome man, even if you cannot understand what he says, you still think, ‘Oh, that guy’s good-looking,’ don’t you? Handwriting is the same.”

We spoke these words to each other sincerely. We were always sincere with each other. Even when we were joking around, we were sincere. Come to think of it, so were the tuna. And the skipjack. All living things were sincere, on the whole.

In loneliness I have drifted this long way, alone. My torn and shabby robe could not keep out the cold. And tonight the sky was so clear it made my heart ache all the more. Sensei taught me this poem by Seihaku Irako