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"I’m not Chinese, I’m Japanese." The petite woman retorted back with a slight accent.

"I’m lost, and I’m so cold. It’s raining out here. Can you let me in?" He pleaded softly.

"It’s always raining here, and it’s always cold."

Tom seemed upset and angry.

"I could kick the glass in if I wanted to." He dared.

"And that would do what?" She asked. "You would still be lost –just like me."

Tom was startled at her response.

"You’re lost, too?!"

This time, he didn’t get an answer, the door just swung open as the wind clanked it against the stone wall. She had let him in and Tom quickly took cover. Inside, it was still cold, but at least it was dry. He saw the Japanese woman sitting at a dusty table. Tiny centipedes of a sort he never saw before scuttled away from the littered floor as he sat next to the queer woman.

"My name is Maki. Does your watch work?" She asked.

Tom thought that was a strange question to ask a person she just met, but he looked down at his Rolex anyway. To his astonishment, the arrow hands in his watch rotated in different directions, the minute hand one way, and the hour hand another. Maki saw the puzzled look on his face and gestured toward a filthy grandfather clock that stood decorating the vintage storefront.

"It’s the same as that one, isn’t it?" She asked nonchalantly.

Tom could see that the clock was acting in the same freak manner as his watch.

"Yes, I don’t understand. Why aren’t the clocks working here?"

"They are working," Makia said enigmatically. "We’re the ones at fault."

"I don’t understand what you mean." Tom pressed. "What is this place, where is this place?"

"I don’t know, but I’ve been here a long time. I don’t know how long, but I suspect longer than I should have lived."

"I don’t know what you’re talking about. Where is everyone, where are all the people?" Tom inquired with trepidation.

"They all quit, most of them did. The city is very big; maybe even I haven’t seen all of it yet."

"I don’t understand, what do you mean when you said quit?"

Maki made a throat slashing gesture with her hand and then limped to the wide window and pointed outside to the dark rains beyond.

"They all did Hari Kari – they committed suicide, they killed themselves. That’s the only way out of this place." She answered in a frustrated tone. "I only met four people since I’ve been here; an Irish woman, a black man, and two soldiers. The soldiers were Yankees – American Army. Did they ever kill the emperor?"

"What emperor?" Tom snapped back.

"The grand emperor Hirohito?" She barked. "The war did bad things to us, made us crazy in the head!"

Tom took a better look at her. Besides her attractive shape and doll-like face, the young woman wore outdated clothes, as if she indeed had come from the 1940’s era of World War 2.

"Is this a joke?!" Tom spat in anger. "Do you have a cell phone? I want to call my brother."

"A what?" Maki asked.

"A cell phone, you crazy broad. Don’t you have a cell phone?"

"Do you mean a telephone machine?" She said angrily.

"Yes, that will do. Is there a telephone here?"

"Yes, it’s on the wall –and don’t ever call me crazy again." She flustered.

Tom dusted the old telephone off and clumsily struggled to dial with the old fashioned ring-set.

"Is there anything newer than this thing around here? This phone has to be at least fifty years old." Tom asked.

"I don’t know. I never saw any that looked different than that one, and they all make the same noise."

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