How long have I been away from writing a letter? I haven't seen my own handwriting for ages. It is so difficult like trying to pick up something fragile on a swinging boat. I don't know where I should begin. Am I afraid to start writing? I'm just trying to write to forget what I've seen. So I've made up my mind to write down only scraps of my own memory. EVA. These three letters from the word of the beginning. Perhaps it, I can tell now, might be the word of the ending. ADAM. That's a fragment of the truth. Tiny silver square box in my hand. It's so light as to hold easily with one hand. It is the weight of the truth. And it is the cost of my life spent there for several years. The boat swings again. The word swing away. With EVA and ADAM. I've never expected to see you again. I might have expected that it had finished by then. No! Here is the beginning of the end. I'm telling a lie even to myself. Dancing letters decorated with lies. If this letter were worth reading, the lies would be worth telling. It is so difficult like trying to get something fragile on a swinging boat. A liar can be a liar when he keeps his lie to his grave. So I decided to tell you a lie. I put this letter in the bottom of the baggage. Because no postman will come to pick it up.

-Ryouji Kaji, an extract from an anonymous letter never posted-