The cicada have started coming out of hiding. It’s an unexpected reaction, but the noise scars the pants off me. I realize now that almost every time I have heard cicada it has been in some sort of Japanese horror movie. Some part of me expects to see some contorted dead eyed girl crawl out of a window or something. The sound of cicada is nearly as bad in horror movies as screechy violins.
Many of the shrines in town are preparing for summer, there are curtains up in front of masked statues, all you can see is the silhouette of some faceless human figure. When the cicada cry as I walk past them, my mind turns them into some sort of demon, and I find myself walking much faster.
They say here in Japan that the shiver you get from watching horror movies, or hearing scary stories helps keep you cool on hot summer day. It’s going to be an exciting summer.