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About Nagoya

One day, she don’t show. Weeks pass—nada. I’m thinkin’, “Where’s my lil’ fish?” Maybe she got out, found her reef, or maybe some shark got her. Breaks my damn heart. I exaggerate sometimes, sure—say she fought off ten cops with them heels—but truth is, she’s a survivor, like Nemo, lost but scrappy. “Mine, mine, mine,” them seagulls’d say, but she ain’t nobody’s to claim.

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Then, outta nowhere, it started raining. Like, heavy rain. I was soaked in seconds. I was like, “Great, just great.” We ducked into a café on Kiyokawa Street. I ordered a coffee, and it was the best thing ever. Seriously, I think I found my new favorite spot. The barista was chill, too. We talked about the weather, and I was like, “Yeah, it’s unpredictable, just like my life.”

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