Reading on the train in Ikebukuro station. Spaced out. Come to 40 minutes later.
Still in the station.
Obvious delays I know.
Read some more. 20 minutes later I get off the train still in the Ikebukuro station.
Take a different line.
Spaced out again.
Come to and am amazed by the sight through the window. When’s the last time I’ve seen somewhere not right under my nose?
The sky is white and surreal. Apartment blocks pulled up from the ground.
Lots of them.
Regular and big and surreal.
Is this from my book?
Punk couple in the corner. They don’t belong here. Why are they overweight? Is their skin too dark?
What’s that noise?
I violently recoil and stare at my neighbor. The noise came from him. From what he’s carrying.
What is he carrying? It’s in a mesh bag type thing slung across his front.
! I hear it again!
Sounds like the cooing of a baby! Is there a baby in your bag, mister?
No! A dog maybe?
You look so normal but maybe it’s a squishy alien thing and that’s why it’s completely covered up. I try not to stare but I can’t help it.
I know I must look alarmed but I’m too spaced and weirded out to control the onslaught of emotions crossing my face.
I want to ask him if he has a baby or a dog or what he has in that bag but I’m afraid that might sound rude.
Excuse me sir, is that a baby in your bag or a dog?
I decide against it. Probably definitely rude.
I get off the train at Hoya and it feels like I haven’t been outside my dingey little bubble in an eternity.
What day is it?
How did I get here?
Am I becoming one of them?! Wake up Liz wake up!
And now I’m home staring at my dry cleaning wondering if that’s the invisible sign of becoming an adult and whether it’s too late to stop.