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Home By Sunset

Every three weeks, I gotta see my head shrinker. He asks me the same questions every time, and I always give him more information than he actually wants. But the main thing is, he prescribes my antidepressants. In other countries, it’s called Zoloft. I hate to admit it because I want my life and choices to be entirely my own, but that stuff has saved me. Completely.


I don’t even know what happened to make it necessary. But if I didn’t have that prescription, I’d probably be either dead or in some serious trouble. Like sitting in a foreign jail with no access to diplomatic assistance. I know that's dramatic but I do think that was a path available to me under the circumstances. 

After my appointment, I always take the same walk... Hirosedori to Kitayobancho, or even Kita Sendai when I attend my group counseling session. That's another story. A good one though. Sendai is a beautiful city. In Japan, they call it the City of Trees. I love city walking. Especially here.


I stopped to tie my shoe, take a swig of water, and, of course, check my phone because these days, looking at your phone every chance you get is just what we do.

That’s when I saw it.

A photo popped up. Facebook reminding me what I was doing, what I posted, 14 years ago today. Osaka. A past life. One that was about to end.


I stare at that face and feel torn. Do I warn him? Tell him danger is near? Or do I just say, “Dude, shit’s about to go down, but I got your back”?

I got home at sunset.

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