My Novel Unforgettable' 8/44
All Translated by Yumi Ikeda .
Kei never accept any invitation from Rika since then. Rika kept talking about a new club opened near the intersection at Roppongi or a live house opened today and a nameless band that will become a hit in the future performs or there is a wonderful, popular bar which opened recently at a building constructed in Nishi-Azabu recently. Rika kept asking Kei to go to such places at night, but she was actually a coward. Kei spent every weekends coming to Tokyo with Naoya in their high-school days and made whoopee until next morning. Even if Kei spent happy time as a diversion of youth, he was seized with a wave of weariness doubly next morning. Kei was already worn out by it and also feared being overawed. Kei hated being confused by a pleasure of one night.
After a good sleep at the first lecture, Kei stepped over a desk and left the classroom. On the way, from the back he heard Rika’s voice to stop him, but he went out of the preschool disregarding it.
Father's back figure crossed Kei's mind when he saw a businessman wiping sweat of his brow in the intersection distorted by heat.?
It was a day of April when he was 15 years old. A gentle wind was blowing. Kei was called to an old coffee shop which was just next to the head office of the company in Otemachi where his father was working for.
"These are for you.”
Father said so in a few words and gave one credit card and a brand-new cellular phone on a dirty table with a circle of coffee stain. Kei took them a little later after father left. A cold feel was transmitted to the tip of his finger. A smell of rust hung in the air from the inside of the portable, precise equipment which had no flaw. Kei inhaled the smell deeply and grasped it.
Kei took out iPod from the pocket and screwed the headphone into the ear while being hit around the waist by the hot wind that had fallen vertically along the wall of the building. The familiar bustle of town faded away at the moment when the back of the eardrum trembled, and the scenery changed.
The undulation of “Killer cars” quickens Kei's steps and the chain of the heat surrounded around the ankle is slowly undone. The sluggish voice of Thom Yorke rippled widely the stagnant crowd coming and going. The ripple becomes smaller and smaller to the breath of Kei running with short steps, focuses toward one point, becomes a line from small spots and hurts the scenery he passed. The scenery is like the thin glass scraped with a small pebble repeatedly. The color of the town faded out as Kei quickens his steps and gets out of breath.
The feel in the way of giving way to the monochrome was comfortable to Kei.
Kei had touched music in this way for a long time. Erasing the meaning of his presence and merging him into the flowing scenery. This way eased his gloomy feeling to some extent, too. Kei felt at ease unnoticed by walking thus restlessly in the town, being unconscious of himself at present and himself hereafter. But another thought crossed his mind on the other hand. By any chance I might value this scenery filled with boredom. Everyone belongs to one of these sceneries and never run away even if he wants to get away from tedious days. Though he understands this, he values every days. In the corner of mind he still might have an instinctive hold on leaving him quietly somewhere in the dull scenery. He might expect a little somewhere in the familiar scenery and want to belong to it like choosing the way to a halfway preschool with no definite object to go.
But the lines of the window stuck on a building certainly goes straight, crosses each other all over the town, runs after the crowd of the flowing people endlessly and surrounds it. A stable standard of the society is shown in the bunch of the transparent lines. An enclosure of definite ideal standard that looks justice. If you are not tightened by the collar of the ideal hung mutually and spend disregarding the standard shown each other, the lines coils around the foot, and hangs you at once. He felt he would get stiff in a moment and be set straight until his breath stops if he was seized with only one thing.
On December 01 2009 37 Views
Grupo 80ntero para subir fotos reacionadas con la decada de los 80: peliculas, musica, etc