[snowglobe post]
A dining room and connected kitchen. It could be any middle class Tokyo home, really, neatly kept, hardly any trace of anything personal, muted colors. Except...
.
There are dishes upset on the table, tea and rice spilled and scattered, and several dishes and glasses have been smashed against the wall near the door, including a plate of yakisoba. Several items on a nearby shelf - about chest-height- have been shoved off accidentally, and are scattered about, including a telephone, still off the hook.
~*~
A beautiful mountain countryside, somewhere dreamlike and far away. Goura.
~*~
A typical school classroom, with a tank of fish in the back.
~*~
A starving artist's apartment: wood-paneled, sparely funished. (ex. 1 2 3)
There is a tiny cove of a kitchen, a ramshackle, unmade bed and table and chair set, and off to one side, a gaming system and a flickering old television.
~*~
An amusement park on a sunny day, and a brightly colored ferris wheel blooming up from it. Odaiba.
~*~
A huge, gloomy library, with high shelves and arched, alcoved windows. There's a fierceness to those windows, as if nothing in the world could break them. (ex.)
~*~
A riverside in the Tokyo suburbs, tall grass growing thick on the banks.
~*~
A park bench on a sunny autumn day, exploding in reds and oranges.
~*~
A wall in a gloomy hallway with words written in blood.
It is a dank and deserted hallway, but what is disturbing is the message, dripping, freshly-written words: Ritsuka, I'm back.