How Kyoto Breaks Your Heart by Florentyna Leow

He usually sits next to the record player, and you can often hear him humming slightly tunelessly along to whatever’s playing. Neither T nor M are especially talkative. I can’t remember how or why this began, but we once got into a meow-off with each other, and now we meow at each other instead of saying hello. She’s an enviable free spirit in a rigid society – shaving her head, dabbling in everything from therapeutic massages to indigo dyeing, tending to a vegetable garden on a plot of rented land nearby. His twin K is his obverse, reminding me a bit of a bright-eyed chipmunk. Lately their son, who’s nearing the end of his twenties, has been working with them he is affable but quiet, and reveals little about himself. There is a companionable silence between the two, as happens with people who have been married for decades and spend all their time together.

He makes the coffee and selects the records she makes most of the other food and drink. Thus began my affair with this small dive.īehind the counter are T and M, the middle-aged couple who run this kissa. Every other week, then every week, sometimes even twice a week. And it must have gotten under my skin, because I went again. I probably drank so slowly the coffee was cold halfway down the cup. Secondhand smoke and jazz would have swirled around me: Ella, Louis, Dizzy, Billie.

It would have come with a thimble-sized pitcher of cream, and I’d have dribbled a few droplets into the coffee, watched white tendrils coil through the black. I don’t remember how I first ended up here. Open the door and a wave of music swept over you, louder than conversation, sending shivers thrumming through your spine. It was the kind of space you would dream of in monochrome. Fresh flowers on the counter, tchotchkes and bric-a-brac everywhere. Old-fashioned lamps hung low, yellowing photos and posters dotting the walls and ceiling. It was the kind of place you’d have to be looking for to walk into – eight seats at a counter and a wall of records behind the chairs. My second home in Kyoto was a little jazz kissaten by the river. We present part of one essay as it is in the book. “This is the story of her life as a tour guide in Kyoto, backgrounded by the rumblings of a friendship cracking at the foundations,” as described by the publishing house The Emma Press. This time, we introduce an exclusive excerpt from Florentyna Leow’s upcoming debut essay collection titled How Kyoto Breaks Your Heart. TW only takes pride in being one of their most passionate supporters. The works submitted here belong entirely to the creators. Tokyo Weekender’s series TW Creatives features various works by Japan-based writers, photographers, videographers, illustrators and other creatives in a bid to provide an additional platform for them to exhibit their talent.

How Kyoto Breaks Your Heart by Florentyna Leow