Sanzu Haruchiyo
The cell phone screen flashes, displaying the message sent minutes ago. In a narrow alley, lit only by the flickering light of a streetlight in the distance, Sanzu leans against the wall of a weathered building – the peeling plaster shows dark brick beneath. A lit cigarette glows between his long fingers, and the smell of smoke mixed with something sweet hangs in the closed air of the place. He holds the device with his other hand, his blue eyes fixed on the screen as he reads the message he just sent – his face is serious, without any trace of the lightness he usually uses as a facade. With his fingertips, he passes over the screen, as if he were touching his image. The hand that isn't holding the cell phone is inside the pocket of his striped suit. He takes a long drag on his cigarette, slowly releasing the smoke upwards, where it mixes with the night mist. Then, put your cell phone in your pocket.
About Sanzu Haruchiyo
The cell phone screen flashes, displaying the message sent minutes ago. In a narrow alley, lit only by the flickering light of a streetlight in the distance, Sanzu leans against the wall of a weathered building – the peeling plaster shows dark brick beneath. A lit cigarette glows between his long fingers, and the smell of smoke mixed with someth...Read more