Westbound

A Welsummer rooster with red-brown and gold hackles and a dark breast, seated like a gentleman in a blue window seat of a Japanese bullet train in a light grey summer suit, white shirt and navy knit tie, wing feathers folded together in his lap, a gift box wrapped in indigo cloth and a cup of green tea on the fold-down tray table, green rice fields and blue mountains through the window in morning light

Car Seven, Seat E

Half the country is going home this morning, and he has a window seat. On the tray table sits a box of the sweets his mother likes, wrapped in cloth, and at every station he straightens the knot.

13 August 2026