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Haven't had a memorable dream in ages. I have never had a dream about being in Japan. But this time, I was in the Tokyo subway, which is actually not crowded at all and is located more than 100M below the surface of the city. I can't remember exactly why, but I had lost the pocket-watch that I don't actually have and had to buy a new one during my stopover in Narita. A young woman served as the interpreter for an old gentleman in a top hat who explained that the closest location to buy a pocket-watch was on the surface, up the road seventeen steps, then directly facing the street is a store that sells the most comprehensive collection of pocket-watches.

I took the interminably long elevator to the surface and stepped out into a narrow bustling street made up of uneven steps. Apparently, the Japanese take very small steps, because some of these stairs were about a handbreadth or less in length. When I made it to the store (proud of myself for remembering the sequence), I saw that there were only three pocket-watches in cheap cellophane envelopes held to a metal rack by clothespins, tucked among lots of tourist bric-a-brac. The most serviceable of them was a swiss army pocket watch, with a tag saying ¥440,000.

Not wanting to pay this much, I wandered along for a while until the street went indoors, where young ladies in polyester kimonos shuffled down narrow stairs. I passed a spot where two pots covered in stretched hide (or maybe they were drums) were lined up one by the other. Apparently it's a tradition in Japan to leave two of these things side by side at public thoroughfares for good luck. But only if you pass them on the right.

Naturally, I took a right.