OblivionBefore nightfall I rode a taxi through Narita. Neon lit restaurants and bars and dark cypress. The snow and a wind from the Sea of Japan had all but cleared the streets. Cedar temples sat beneath grey skies. Vending machines lit the wet and empty paths to their gates. I told the driver to go on to the city. Lyrical and atmospheric. As the influence of the West falls away, an unnamed narrator drifts through the East's floating world of non places chain