7
4
7
In Japan

people push onto huge jumbo jets for quick domestic city hops. Hundreds of obedient Japanese faces listen to Texas pilot drawl as 747s touch down between urban apartment complexes. In Japan, rain falls in warm mist air thick steep forest hillsides. Rain falls on umbrellas and tiny trucks and gloved runway workers and radar dishes' storm cutting eyes. Asian flights are coaxed through sheets of headwind water falling rain. 747s under maximum takeoff thrust bend wings with full flaps extended maximum lift maximum groaning takeoff power. Wings twist engines churn and pull hard as heavy rains chop buffeting fights against gravity and weight.
In Japan

back doors to highrise building exit staircases are left unlocked. Rooftop hatchways creak open to clicking elevator control solenoids. Neon sign buzzing lights spark and pop on all sides with night sky overhead. Low rails hold you from falling down onto scurrying distant streets below. Neon lights you from underneath catwalk grids, and you want to stay there forever.

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