mistyfizz
"I'll be home for Christmas, you can plan on me..." This is the 63rd time I've heard this song today.
I've been counting.
"Please have snow,. And mistletoe..." I know because I've been here, on this yellow pleather, for 10 hours, going on 11. "and presents on the tree... Christmas Eve will find me, where the love light gleams." Incheon, maybe, but for now I'm not convinced I'm not just leaving it here.
I'll be home for Christmas, if only in my dreams
Deer, Boar, Bear - all present at tonight's drunken feast, all in the background of Hanafuda cards, or so I'm told by superiors not so much drinking sakeas spilling it everywhere.
Passing time, talking about an old man's card game, when all I'm thinking of is everything but.
Remember that time you beat me with 70 so points?
It'll haunt me the whole 14 hours home tomorrow. Time to strategize.
My secretary called me in the morning two weeks ago, excited, and I couldn't muster up the courage to show my face at work to talk about his "good news."
I was in this office, two weeks ago, with a different piece of paper, a thicker one. I sat with over lukewarm, bittersweet coffee with my Principal asking me to stay, first at his request, then at the request of my coworkers.
I was pulled out to dinner once, drinks thrice, and told in broken English "We want you to stay here."
...and yet, two weeks later, it finds its way to my hands:
"Mr. Fizz, Misty
We regret to inform you that we do not intend to reappoint you for the following reason(s):
Generally, the maximum number of reappointments is two. Our City also follows this procedure.
Unfortunately, for budgetary reasons, we cannot extend your contract at this time. We appreciate your help and cooperation with us."
This paper is flimsy. This paper is recycled, darkened, lazily stamped by some nameless bureaucrat. He hands it to me like a stone tablet, delivers an apology even heavier before shuffling back to his office.
Every 3rd year, cut.
It's like opening divorce papers on the 25th, they look at me and say, wry smile stretched across their face, "Merry Christmas," with all the sincerity of a department store jingle on repeat.
Whatever happens, is going to happen.
Now more than ever. The only thing that will keep me here is how much I put into finding a way to stay.
Any way.
Every minute matters. I can't waste any of it.
The sound of a doorbell reminds me of a note I’d left in my techo on this date /months/ ago: 11,474 yen, Zekkei, which I guess would roughly translate to…11,474 yen, Great View. It didn’t dawn on me what it was until I stumbled through the change and lazily signed where I should have firmly hanko’d, and opened the box –
"幸せつつみと花遊び"
Oh! Of course! I ordered this all the way back in…September? It’s probably the 4th time I’ve bought this game, in different editions. I grab my phone to send a quick reminder and reality bites at my excitement - even if I snapped a picture, there’s no way to put it anywhere meaningful...so instead I ruffle through the little cardboard treasure box alone.
It comes with a Zabuton?!
I’ll probably frame the Hanafuda cards, maybe request to get the posters signed, and…what’s this?
An almost dismissably small Ema, hidden under the bubble wrap and paper wrapping. I double check my order and wonder what it is, and find that if you bought it through the E-capcom store, you get one of 12 Fudegami Ema with your purchase.
I turn mine over, hoping for Bakugami, and of course, of course,
OF COURSE,
It’s a maneki-neko, the kabegami.
I only know one other person who bought this.
I wonder if they’d want to trade…
The sound of a doorbell reminds me of a note I'd left on this date /months/ ago: 11,474 yen, Zekkei, which I guess which translate to...11,474 yen, Great View. It didn't dawn on me what it was until I stumbled through the change and lazily signed where I should have hanko'd, and opened the box -
幸せつつみと花遊び
Oh! Of course! I ordered this all the way back in...September? It's probably the 4th time I've bought this game, in different editions. Even if I snapped a picture, there's no way to put it anywhere meaningful, so instead I ruffle through the little cardboard treasure box alone.
I'll probably frame the Hanafuda cards, maybe request to get the posters signed, and...what's this?
An almost dismissably small Ema, hidden under the bubble wrap and paper wrapping. I double check my order and wonder what it is, and find that if you bought it through the E-capcom store, you get one of 12 Fudegami Ema with your purchase.
I turn mine over, hoping for Bakugami, and of course, of course,
of course,
It's a maneki-neko, the kabegami.
I only know one other person who bought this.
I wonder if they'd want to trade...
"From the rooftops, they've watched the people move through these roads for generations," I whip out the first with a flare of grandiose that is certainly not present in its original language. "Where they may have been effective at striking fear into a thief or other such wayward heart-" there's some more embellishment "-they ultimately couldn't save the capital from burning down thrice." A series of backspaces delete a bitter, niche joke as I laugh quietly to myself.
"Temples would commission iron works to produce massive versions of these to be hung from the wooden structure's central - and coincidentally largest - joist. The fearsome face would (same phrase as was used in the previous sentence), but also proved the might of the Temple to its competitors, attracting common and noble patrons alike. Though the largest of these now stands in front of (shameless self-advertisement), the second largest once hung in the great hall of (kanji I can't read). Though the joist has since deteriorated,"
...what am I even writing in these anymore?
"records of its grandeur remain. The Onigawara was so heavy, the great cedar joist not only bent to hold it, but the entire structure folded inward at the weight of a single foot stepping into it. This phenomenon was said to be the power of divine forces peering deep into your soul, inspiring piety."
I can smell the incense, hear the wood creek, maybe even discern some rumbled ancient Japanese that I'm mistaking for my coworkers in the moment - but I remember an old saying,
"the body is a temple," and I add my own bit to the end of that, "that could collapse at any minute."
Find your footing, stare it straight in the face, make time the only thing that bends your joists.
Ugh, joists...
後３週間
mpossible to ignore - all the voices in your head speaking at once, their words drawing the thick, bitter sap out of you like a wounded tree; wanting to scream, but nothing comes out. Nightmares like words whispered to you in desperation - asking, begging, tearing you to shreds - letting ivy grow unchecked until it's suffocating you, waking up with a scream and sweat soaked sheets wondering if the pain means the dream hasn't ended. Falling asleep every night with a voice in my heart growing from a low hum to a pastor's fevered sermon, standing every hair on end, leaving me only in the form of a quiet tear. Not a word leaves my mouth.
Decisions that seem too late, contradictions too deep, prolonged silences muting the world around me - an opportunity. Each torture a gift to listen to, not hear, and I fight everyday in the hope I finally turn my head in the direction of my voice, knowing it may lead me into desolation, like a penguin turning from the sea and running toward death.
Making my way North, slowly, with a seven card hand and no playables in sight. Mulligan? I stroll further up familiar streets I don't recognize in the dark - 5 lands, 1 playable. Mulligan #2.
Slip into a little farming aqueduct, catch myself, take a breath. 5 instants, no lands. Meaningless tricks, mull #3.
I stop at a bridge, dropping my light in the river. A scream swells but doesn't leave me - like this new hand, 3 creatures and a land, nope. Mull again.
Uphill - tired legs, quiet mind - mull # 5!
2 cards left as I walk through the door of am old joint, I don't turn them over until I leave with an "Ookini!"
1 instant, 1 land. Enough to survive for a turn. For a night.
Waiting to cut the deck.
Day 4
There's a British game show where the host's lovely assistant chooses five different numbers between 1-100, then randomly generates a number between 100-500. The panelists use each of the five numbers once - adding, subtracting, multiplying, dividing with the others - to try and get as close to the target number as possible.
Sometimes its possible.
Sometimes it's just one or two away from the target, and impossible to figure.
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