The Quarantine Diaries, Part Two — This is part of a series of short stories. To read them all, head here. When the virus put the city into lockdown, my cat started talking to me. “You’re so lazy,” she said. “What?” “All you do is sit there and watch TV.” “Nobody’s allowed outside,” I said. …

The Quarantine Diaries, Part Three — This is part of a series of short stories. To read them all, head here. When the virus put the city into lockdown, I got hit in the back of the head by a flying CD case. I don’t know where it came from, but it hurt. …

The Quarantine Diaries, Part Four — This is part of a series of short stories. To read them all, head here. When the virus put the city into lockdown, my job actually got busier. Delivery requests spiked. I spent the days cycling through the suburbs, stuffing pamphlets into letterboxes. …

The Quarantine Diaries, Part Five — This is part of a series of short stories. To read them all, head here. When the virus put the city into lockdown, my friend Takeshi made me go out with him to Shinjuku every night. He was a freelance writer with dreams of becoming a real journalist. He saw…

The Quarantine Diaries, Part Six — This is part of a series of short stories. To read them all, head here. When the virus got especially bad, the city was completely locked down. People stopped leaving their houses, the shops closed, and the trains stopped running. Businesses were paused indefinitely, people worked from home, and in…

On travel, and how it changes us — Before she left again, Min said the world had changed. It was not something she could see or explain easily, and yet she was sure something was different. …

If Facebook is a club, Twitter is a dive bar — This story is part of the Internet Time Machine, a collection about life online in the 2010s. As a writer, I often go to house parties. These parties take place at the homes of some guys I know. You’ve probably heard of them: Twitter, Instagram, Facebook. …

I went to Shimabara because of a newspaper article. It said a young man by the name of Keigo Kirino had died at a local speed eating contest. It was a riceball that did it; a chunk which became lodged in the young man’s throat and refused to leave. …

Lee stumbles down the alleyway. Falls. Picks himself up. Footsteps closing in. Hard, decisive. Clear in intent. Not stumbling. Not high on dust. Not regretting that third beer. Not like Lee. He falls again, lifts himself up. A sharp kick in the back. Lee tumbles into a pile of scrap…