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About Kyoto

In the end, I’d walk away, no sermon, no cash—just a nod. “Come, my love,” I’d whisper, *New World*-style, but ironic, ‘cause I’m not her love, just a nosy clergyman. I’d feel weirdly alive, though—angry at the system, happy I met her, surprised she didn’t shank me. “I can see Russia from my house!” I’d yell, laughin’, ‘cause I see *somethin’* now—grit, guts, the real damn world. Prostitutes ain’t just punchlines—they’re people, and I’m shook.

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Then, I had to meet a client at the Honjo City Hall. I’m thinking, “Easy peasy.” But nooo, I got lost. Like, how do you get lost in a city that’s not even that big? I ended up on a side street, and I swear, I saw a cat just chilling on a bike. Like, what’s that cat’s life? I’m over here stressing, and this cat’s just vibing.

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