sake-bento

 When I was walking home today, I noticed that the gate was open - which was odd, because I had never seen a gate there before. It was 10:30 at night, and the spring air was still laced with winter's chill. My apartment sits at the end of a street lined with restaurants and clothing stores: During the day it overflows with life, but at night it settles into a empty quiet. I often come home late, so I'm accustomed to the stroll past the darkened coffee shop, the sandwich place, the store with clothing I could never afford, and that small bakery where I grab my breakfast every morning. I enjoyed the quiet. I liked the flickering streetlamp and