yumi
I read them all.
2001 to 2019. One a year, never more than four lines. The weather at New Year. The sento. The morning glories, every year, how many flowers, what colour. In the 2012 card, "the building shook but I am fine." In 2016 he had an operation for a hernia and the nurses were kind. He asks if she is well nineteen times.
Nothing about why she isn't there. Nothing about her mother.
The 2001 card is the only one with an address. Somewhere in Ota-ku. Crossed out with two straight lines, with a ruler.
These cards only needed an address to go. The postage is printed on.
Nineteen New Years. I think about him at the low table by the window in the first days of January, the way people in Japan sit down to write their cards, writing this one, and putting it in the tin, and the tin back up under the ceiling.
I have to get up for work in five hours. I'm calling Tsuchiya-san at lunch.