Observational Journal

I’ve never expected to have it easy. In this part of town, hard work is the way of life. But they say if you do things right, you can steal little moments of happiness. I had that, but I wanted more. Was that wrong?

I was married to a carpenter and we had a son. He was 7 when my husband got into an accident. He couldn’t do physically-demanding tasks anymore, couldn’t work.

I tried to help, but only drinking and gambling comforted him. His mood got worse though; he threw things. It became routine that I brought Daigorou home from the park, late enough that he might be asleep while I ate dinner with my son.

One day we came home and found him with another woman. He left that night.

For the last few years my son and I have lived alone, and I’ve taken a liking to my bottles, which have been disappearing. I asked my son about it, but he doesn’t give straight answers about the alcohol or the strange man with sunglasses.

When I leave for work, I see the man outside nurse his whiskey. It’s the same as my brand.

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