Viewfinder anime takaba drunk new years
His answering machine picks up on the sixth ring.
He had been abroad three weeks for this photo shoot and he hoped that the phone wouldn’t ring as the clock crept towards seven there were still six minutes left.įor a moment, he toyed with the idea of not picking up when the time came… The pungent smell of fixer drifted from his darkroom and his cameras glistened and gleamed even in the low light. He dropped his luggage by the door and closed it. His apartment was lit orange by the falling sun behind his half-closed blinds. Takaba would duck his head each time, gasping and shuddering and walking away fast, avoiding the looks of suspicious obaa-sans and giggling schoolgirls who probably wondered why he had stood still in the middle of a busy street. There was always a moment of confusion and dizziness as he returned to reality, a crash of a wave that left him blinking and breathless. In times such as those, it was hard to tell that he had escaped. The push-and-shove of people, milling and aimless, focused and hurried, moved around him and bumped past him he felt like a tiny, solitary island lapped by water. Sometimes, when he’s standing in the heart of Shinjuku, he would look up and the skyscrapers, neon lights, and oversized billboards would blur together.