It's 25 years ago and I'm in Fukushima living on a hill overlooking the city, in a cozy crowded apartment.
It's 19 years ago and I'm in a pleasantly depressed backwater, doing crosswords every night on the living room sofa.
It's fifteen years ago and I'm writing writing writing because all the people in my head want their stories told.
It's a dozen years ago and I'm observing the dragon royal family doing its thing.
And the leaves were yellow under the lamplight, even in Fukushima, and the moon was large and bright in a blue night sky, and it was sort of like tonight is, only better.