By Henri Colt
Love is like food. Take it away, and feel the hunger. Lose it, and life is a starving nightmare. My therapist says I have abandonment issues because I miss the symbiosis of my mother’s womb, but it’s as natural to need love as it is to eat, and I’ve wanted food since I was born.
It’s a ninety-minute ride to downtown Tokyo. I stare out the window and marvel at how silently the bullet train glides past row upon row of wooden homes. Their gabled roofs of slate tile remind me of how I stack tablets of dark chocolate on my kitchen counter. The man beside me is garrulous in his complaints about his wife. The smell on his breath betrays a preference for scotch over bottled water, so I chomp on wasabi beef chips and chug a soda to drown his words.[Read more…] about Breakfast in Tokyo