I. Preamble

I’d driven to a nearby village with my friend Jake, who had come to visit. We passed a churchyard. There, above the low stone walls, stood a granite obelisk and fixed upon its surface was a large metal plaque adorned with the names of the war dead. These monuments are so ubiquitous that it feels absurd explaining what they are. They stand like stone antennae broadcasting a quiet signal that we’re all picking up.

I. Preamble

One day, Takeshi receives a letter informing him that he needs to return to hospital because of some worrying test results. He’s 60 years old and terrified of dying. His wife assures him that it’s nothing; he’s probably fine. Takeshi isn’t convinced. He hunkers over himself in the hospital waiting room. He doesn’t want to die.