Dreams of Japan

As Cobb dreamed sweet, sensual dreams of Geishas in kimonos and eel sushi, a torrential downpour pummeled the dirty streets and buildings of Watershed heights. The rain was incorporated into his dreams as fish falling from the sky, and when the fish turned into people he had glimpsed before in his dreams or perhaps another lifetime, he awoke, with a gray aura fogging up his field of vision. The clock on his bedside table read 7:30; he had been sleeping for only 20 minutes. Cobb attempted to fall back asleep, but a penetrating siren pierced his Japanese fantasies and he reluctantly crawled out of bed. Blanket Cobb was a big sleeper.
But his bonsai trees whispered things to him as he paced back and forth across his apartment, and he found this disquieting, and wanted to go somewhere. "Shizukesa shizukesa," they said, "Bantan sumashu."
"Stop it," Blanket Cobb said. "I'm leaving, so just shut up."
It was still pouring as he walked outside and down the street towards the park. He passed a teen mom and some crows that were clustered around a rotting piece of meat. The teen mom made a weird face as she passed the crows, and Blanket Cobb felt slightly disgusted with the whole scene, and the world in general. He wished he was Japanese or at least not in the prime of his life and living like he did.