“When I reach home tonight, I will celebrate like a grateful woman - with cognac, chocolate, and a good book.I’ll savor every sip, every bite, every word. And then at long last, I will close my eyes.
At Tokyo Station, I weave through the pulsating throng. It’s rush hour and I’m engulfed in one endless pinstriped horror, the combined detritus of the district’s office blocks, snaking toward the underground. I can’t walk fast enough. Finally, past the turnstiles, at the top of the down escalator, I stop moving altogether and let the hurrying bodies jostle, overtake, curse me for being old, slow, stupidly in their way, for I am what they all fear - sudden, aberrant stillness.
But by God, do I feel alive in my stalling!
I take a deep breath and let the escalator carry me down.”
— Sandi Tan, The Black Isle