A note about a mysterious puddle.

If you think the storm clears the air then forget it, the day after the night of the typhoon was as muggy as hell. It felt like wading through mashed potato as I walked and sweated my way to the municipal office to declare my residence in this country. Last year, I was taken to the  government offices by a member of staff to do all the paper work, but this year, I was told that now I am a senior teacher I could go my own way. Charming. Now, I know I am no spring chicken and doing something like registering for tax should not worry me but I don’t really like doing that kind of thing in places where I can speak the language, let alone in a place where there are three alphabets. So, my struggle through the gloopy air was tinged with nerves. But I needn’t have worried, let me tell you something, Japanese municipal hall staff are some of the nicest people I have ever met. They indulged me with the patience a parent may show for their crying child, and I didn’t even have to throw myself on the floor and wail to get their attention. They do things very methodically here, so it did take time, but soon they were waving me ‘bye bye’ and sending me off into the mash to walk home again. It was when I got home that the mystery started. In my flat, on the floor just behind the front door was a puddle. It looked like three ice cubes had melted in the heat and had now formed a little lake. But I’d not left ice cubes just inside my flat, who does that? Maybe, it had come in through the letter box, maybe it was the rain from last night’s typhoon and I’d not noticed it before. Then, a sinister thought, maybe someone had urinated through my letter box. But on inspection of the flap, I found it was taped up, (I presume the company do this to stop the huge amount of junk mail coming in when the property is empty.) So, where did the water come from? It was then, and it is now, a mystery.