Tuesday, April 12, 2005


I wait for a while opposite the departmental store, and there are two armchairs there. I feed a 2 dollar coin into one of them, and some machinery in the back starts moving. It tries to give me what it calls a shiatsu massage, but all it feels like is two smooth stones, stones rounded from mountain streams, are being embedded into my back. I twist away from time to time, worried that it could break my spine, and my arm grips the chair anxiously, but the seconds tick away in glowing red on one of the arms and soon the rocks retreat into their recesses waiting for their next task, waiting for their next feeding time.