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I woke up.
A thin strip of white light came through the gap in the curtains.
No one else is up yet.
I lay in the futon for a while, just looking at the ceiling.
I get up and go to the kitchen.
I fill the kettle and put it on the flame.
Until it boils, I do nothing.
Outside the window, birds are singing.
Listening to them, I took my usual mug, a little chipped, down from the shelf.
I pour the hot water.
Steam rises white in the morning light.
I take a sip.
What shall I do today?
I hung out the laundry.
Out on the balcony, the breeze was lukewarm.
I shake out a T-shirt and fasten it with a clothespin.
On the next balcony, someone’s towel was swaying.
I looked up at the sky.
The clouds are drifting slowly east.
In the afternoon, I went out for a bit.
I walk the path along the river.
Afternoon light trembles on the water.
Along the river stand buildings with pictures painted on their walls.
A strange street, as if past and present had run together.
I bought a cold tea from a vending machine and walked on.
I pass through the nightlife district.
In the daytime it was quiet.
Under the sun, the colors of the signs look a little faded.
Crates are stacked in front of a liquor store.
A cat was narrowing its eyes in the shade.
Around the corner, I came out onto a car-free street.
The sky opened up, just a little.
I stopped in front of a mixed-use building.
I open the door.
Cool air.
A quick greeting at the front desk, and I head to my usual table.
I open my cue case.
My own cue.
The grip still holds the marks of my hand.
The feel of tightening the joint is the same as always.
Chalk up.
The blue dust settles quietly onto the tip.
I set out the balls.
I got down, and shot.
Tok.
The sound of the ball dropping into the pocket rang through the quiet hall.
The next ball to aim at.
Walk around the table.
The blue of the cloth, lit by the lamps overhead.
Think a little, get down, shoot.
Missed.
One more.
This time it went in.
The cue ball rolled slowly and stopped near the middle of the cloth.
The hum of the air conditioner.
From a far table, the sound of someone’s ball dropping into a pocket.
It was quiet.
After playing a while, I put the cue back in its case.
“Thank you, take care,” they said at the desk, and I stepped outside.
The sky had changed.
The strong sunlight of earlier was gone, and the west was beginning to turn pink.
Between the buildings, I could see a sky where blue and pink ran together.
That time, lasting only a few minutes.
I stood still and watched.
I didn’t take out my phone.
The way home.
I walk the street I came by, in the other direction.
Here and there, lights were beginning to come on in the signs.
Back by the river, streetlights instead of afternoon sun were swaying on the water.
I got home.
I brought in the laundry.
The T-shirt smelled of sunshine.
I stood in the kitchen and made something simple.
Ate.
Cleaned up.
I sat on the sofa and let my mind go blank for a little while.
What did I do today?
Boiled water.
Hung out the laundry.
Walked along the river.
Played some pool.
Watched the sunset.
Made dinner.
Nothing happened.
But it wasn’t a bad day.
My cue case leans against the corner of the table.
Tomorrow will probably be much the same kind of day.
Maybe nothing will happen.
Even so, it’ll surely be a good day.
👉 See the Yokohama Billiard Hall Guide
