I see my reflection flickering on the glass of a closed shop. I look the same. 21. 5'6. But something is off. Looking around my vision begins to focus. You would think they would have more neon in Tokyo. What an odd district. Gazing up, I see the store's Japanese sign. The letters seem to form some kind of inkblots. I stare at the street light and for a second, I see a black fish. Then it vanishes into the shadows.
It's so bitterly cold. I don't remember. Dec. 7th. Even breathing aches. In complete awe I see my breath make an imprinted six fingered hand on the frigid glass. The evaporation reveals six etched letters. Z E P H Y R.