Take a part of me....dripping with blood.

It's been a while since I heard any news from you. I assume you are well. No news is good news, right?

It has been raining for a few weeks here. I went out for a walk during the brief sunshine yesterday. I met four women walking towards me. They were carrying their umbrellas and chatting joyously with each other. The street was still wet. I wondered if they didn't know the rain has stopped or the umbrellas were actually for the fierce sunlight. The sun came from behind and casted a very soft light on their faces through their unbrellas.

I was captured by the moment, the light, the color, the laughter..... They suddenly turned into the four sisters in "The Makioka Sisters", going on a picnic in the cherry blossoms season. The moment, the light, the color, the laughter, the brief sunshine. Life is good, even only for a moment.

"You are a hopeless romantic." I know that's what you would say. I blame it on my insomnia though. Life is good, even only for a moment.

I remember you hate going for walks. You said you don't like doing things without any purpose. "Life is too short." That's what you used to tell me.

I'll try to write you more but I can't make any promises. I don't think you want me to make any promises.

Do you still remember the dog I used to have? I almost forgot about her. Somebody was talking about her dog the other day. I said, "How would I know?" I really meant it when I said it. Only when I returned home then I remembered I used to have a dog when I was ten.

Yes, her name was Tina. You used to call her Dinner. Every time you came to my house, you would look right into her eyes and said, "You are going to be my dinner tonight." And then you would laugh your head off. I don't know how many times I've told you that it was not funny at all.

My mom gave her to a friend who lived nearby the year you left. My mom was really annoyed that dog hair was everywhere in the house. I was really upset. I used to think everything will stay the same forever. Tina will always be my puppy. My mom will always be 46 years old. I will always play football after school with my friends, and have chocolate ice cream afterwards.

Tina ran away from our friend's place after only one day. And I never heard about her again. And I forgot about her.

It's so easy to forget. I don't even remember the color of her hair now. It's scary.

I feel particularly bad when I think about her now. She must have tried to find her way back to our house. When I imagine how many years she had lived on the street and fought for her survival, I almost throw up.

P.S. My dad asked about you many times before he passed away. Did I mention to you about his death? It was almost 6 years.

The sun is particularly fierce today. I still cannot get used to the summer weather after 36 years on this Southern island. But I do like days like this. Everything is so bright and crystal clear that it's almost like a Hollywood movie set. Like a dream you can wake up from.

I know you hate weather like this. Nothing can hide, you would say. And you would lose your temper when the weather man describes rainy days as bad weather. "We will all die without water." You would raise your voice. I think you have actually called the TV station to complain about this.

You told me that's the reason you left this place. The heat. I can hardly imagine that can be a reason to leave a place for good. Especially for a place you call home. But I guess I can only take your word.

Hey, your birthday is around the corner. I hope you have a comfortable birthday in the Northern countries.

Dearest M., that's exactly what I felt when I woke up this morning. The way clouds move in the sky, the man I met when I went to buy the morning paper, the slight dryness I felt in my throat....it seems that I've been here before.

It seems that the longer I know you, the less I understand you. You never bought me anything in all those years. And a comic book....I'm never a big fan.

I looked down at the street from my father's window in the evening. It did look a bit different from this angle. Calmer, somehow. It's still the same street. It's just.....different. He used to stand there for a long time without moving at all.

I hope the book is not a reminder for me to send you a birthday present. I'm not going to do that.

xxx

hello,

I saw a big Chinese porcelain bowl in the second hand shop yesterday. It has this beautiful sophisticated pattern in deep blue on the outside that I just cannot take my eyes away from it. The inside of the bowl is pure white. Plain, without any decoration. The contrast is so stark that you actually need some time to put the two characters together.

It reminds me of somebody we both know.

I think it would make a perfect salad bowl for parties in your house. I really cannot think of any occasion that I can use it for. But it's too much of a hassle to send it to you. So I will keep it for myself. It now sits quietly on my desk.

I have a pretty busy schedule this week. I'll write more later.

Take care, for the time being....

xxx

Dear friend,

It's really too hot to sleep here. Even when I was able to fall asleep, I would have all these horrible dreams.

I was in this foreign city in my dream last night. I'm sure I've been there before but I can't really tell which city it is. I was walking in an open square and it's awfully quiet. Suddenly dozens of B-52 bombers flown across the sky right above me. I saw a flock of pigeons in front of me. I tried to warn them about the danger but I cannot hear my own voice. I cannot hear the sound of the planes either. All I can hear was the sound made by the pigeons.

B-52 bombing pigeons....it doesn't make any sense, isn't it?

I was going through some old stuffs this morning. And I found this paper with your handwritings on it in a book. It doesn't make any sense either.

"I half open the curtains. The sun is creeping in at an angle. I press my nose against the glass, looking towards the far end of the street. Whenever a shadow appears, I think finally you are there. I am looking for you in another person's shadow. Then it starts raining."

Do you remember what it is? I don't even know you write. I guess I don't know you as well as I think I am.

I'm going to keep this for myself. You have not left behind anything after all.