Stories Of The Han

I sat on this metal garden chair when I lived in Tokyo. It was a chair where I sat and regaled tales of my past. It was a chair where I sat looking into the eyes of the woman I once loved. It was a chair where I enjoyed my morning coffee and cigarettes. I cried on this chair. I laughed on this chair. I felt utter bliss and joy on this chair. I sat in the cold of fall hearing crickets far and near. I sat in the humid summer, my legs exposed, mosquitoes galore. I felt the sun shine on me while sitting on this chair. Some days, I would stand outside and just stare at it. One day I was compelled to take this photo of this chair, not knowing it would be the last time I would see it. I wish this chair good tidings. May it fill the next person with love and joy. May it never rust and survive the seasons to come. Goodbye Old Friend. Goodbye.