My Little Apartment in Japan

Activity > Not area specific > Culture

The first time I stepped into my apartment in Japan, I had to say it was a bit small. There was hardly any furniture in the room. Macy did warn me that living spaces in Japan might be a little cramped but I did not think it was this small. I shrugged off my backpack and sat cross-legged on the floor as I surveyed the surroundings around me. The morning sunlight came in through the balcony, where I might be able to hang my clothes to dry after doing the laundry. I crossed my fingers mentally and prayed to the high heavens nobody would try to steal my undergarments as they hung out to dry.

I sighed as I unpacked my bags. At least the closet was rather roomy and I did not bring many clothes with me. It was clear, though, that I would not be splurging on a bunch of furniture anytime soon, which was fine with me.

On the brighter side of things, Macy will be hard pressed to hold any of her parties in this apartment given the limited floor space.

A loud, insistent rapping grabbed my attention from unpacking and I groaned. There was only one other person in the world who would knock like the sky was falling on our heads anytime soon.

I flung the door open and glared at my childhood friend, who held up two bags of groceries like some sort of peace offering. Except that, based on my experience with Macy Sanders, her peace offerings were meant to appease only within fifteen minutes before she committed some new infraction with her next breath.

"I brought house warming gifts!" she declared as she proceeded to make herself comfortable in my own kitchen. She unpacked some plates and bowls, a couple of utensils, some cutlery and stowed them away in a bright green plastic bin on a shelf overhead.

"You don't wanna get stocked up too much when you have so little space," she continued. "But make sure you have the bare essentials, at least." She gave me a pointed glare. "I know you think it's fun to go around preparing for the zombie apocalypse but you just don't have the real estate for it right now."

I rolled my eyes and leaned on the wall. "Think I haven't noticed?"

After she finished unloading the goods in the kitchen and I finished unpacking and setting up my toiletries in the bathroom, we laid out on the old futon she had so generously thought of bringing and stared up at the ceiling.

"You think they would mind if I stuck up some glow-in-the-dark stars up there?" I asked her.

"Nah, I don't think they'd give a hoot," she replied. "Although, they might fall on your face during an earthquake. You do know they happen frequently here, don't you?"

"I did read up before I signed up for the job," I told her a little testily. "It's rather different from home, though."

I watched as her eyes clouded over with memories. Macy had been engaged to marry when she and her longtime boyfriend was involved in a vehicular accident, which resulted in his demise. The drunk driver had run across a red in the intersection. Macy had never quite recovered from the accident or the loss of Andy that night.

"Different is good," she murmured.

I smiled. The apartment was small but it was warm and cozy despite all my forebodings.

"Yes," I agreed. "Different can be good."