Kindle-ing

by Anonymous

Genre: Fiction, Magical realism

First line: ‘Oh gosh, is that the time? Sorry, I have to go,’ the man mumbled evasively, as he stood up and reached for his bag.'

Stars: Coffee and time travel stars for this one, with some nice cover stars on the side too.

In a small unassuming Tokyo café, tucked away underground in a back alley, coffee has been on the menu since its opening in 1874. As urban legend has it though, this untouched charming little café is not an ordinary place.

Toshikazu Kawaguchi’s novel Before the Coffee Gets Cold doesn’t begin with a dedication to a parent or friend, just a question. “If you could go back, who would you want to meet?” The story follows four visitors and staff members who have an answer to that question, and walk into the café with a desire for another chance.

There’s Fumiko, a sharp businesswoman who is heartbroken. Kohtake, a nurse who wants to speak to her husband while he can still recognise who she is. Then there’s Hirai, who works at the café and has been avoiding her sister for far too long. And finally Kei, who wants to meet her unborn baby. You should know there’s also a café ghost who sits around reading, and only leaves her seat to go to the toilet. Kind of great.

The mechanics of time travel in this story are slightly more limited than those of DeLoreans, blue phone boxes, or antique chairs wired with fancy contraptions. Travelers are not allowed to leave their seat at any point, and they can only speak to those who have visited the café before. Their visit begins after their coffee is poured, and they must finish their whole drink while it is still warm.

Breaking the rules brings dangerous consequences, but I like that. Time travel tends to be a messy thing in fiction, and challenging the fabric of the universe should be risky and dangerous, even when nothing the characters say or do in the past can actually change the present. This was one of the first times I’ve seen that condition applied to time travel in a story, and the doubt that came with it resonated with me. What is the point of time travelling without the ability to change anything in the present? It’s a question the main characters must grapple with. However, in the end they all sit down in

Pondering with Jane

by Jane Cole

In light of the recent disappearance of one of UCU’s very own trees, last seen lingering outside of Locke, the question begs to be posed: What is going on with the trees? Something must be wrong, considering the time of year and the number of leaves still on their branches. The clock has turned back an hour, the people have already put on their sweaters, but the trees seem to have missed the memo.

A while back I was listening to a podcast, ‘Smarty Plants’ from Radiolab (can recommend), and I discovered that trees may be able to hear with the little hairs on their roots (similar to the hairs in our ears) leading the trees to, among other things, water sources. They don’t only pick up sounds of water, but their little root hairs work with underground fungal networks to share water and nutrients and even communicate with other trees, sending distress signals. To top it off, studies have been reporting associative learning in plants (just look up Gagliano et. al, ‘Learning by association in plants’, 2016, and be mind-blown).

I then can’t help but ponder, what if we could communicate with the trees? Perhaps we should be the ones telling them it’s time to let go of their leaves. Perhaps they would listen to us. We know what it’s like to go through low points in our lives, especially around winter when we are missing the sun.

Are they hanging onto something they don’t want to let go of? A memory or a loved one? Maybe it finally hit them that these little leaves are all grown up and about to leave home, but now the trees have decided they aren’t ready to release them into the wild. Or maybe it’s not just the trees that don’t want to let go of their leaves, but the leaves that don’t want to fall. What if winter doesn’t come? Or what if it is extra cold this year? Looked at from that perspective, I would want to stay with my tree too.

Or maybe some of the trees finally found a bit of decency. Have they been slut-shamed into rejecting their skimpy, yet natural, winter outfit? If this is the case, we should reach out to the trees and tell them their bark is beautiful. Or what if their leaves heard of some deep dark secret, and now the trees don’t want to drop them out of fear it will spread to the worms or whoever else lives in the ground?

Come to think of it, what about the worms? How must they be feeling about this? Just yesterday I saw a dead worm under the tree right outside my room. If you ask me, it looked like it was desperately lacking in leaves. And if the that chair and ask the waitress to pour them a cup of steaming coffee. worms can’t eat their delicious decay, the birdies can’t eat their yummy worms. The domesticated cats then won’t be able to participate in their favorite bird killing sport and then where will we be? With a bunch of depressed cats! That’s problematic to say the least.

I think they feel the risks are outweighed by the chance to speak their mind, to see someone they miss, to hear their voice again. Maybe imagining yourself reliving an important moment like that puts a dull weight into your chest. Maybe it instills you with longing. I don’t know, I think bearing your heart to someone is very difficult, but realising you haven’t been able to in time is much worse. These four stories, interlinked as you will see, give a poignant fictional expression to that sentiment, except that in some way they do get their do-over. Just for themselves.

This book was a moving, bittersweet read for me, with ordinary, realistic characters and honest, clear writing that took my mind off the stress of life right now. It’s setting in a windowless basement, unchanged across the centuries and steeped in a permanent sepia hue, makes for a great bit of escapism and chance to get to know the regulars. I hope you find something in it that will land with you too. Say what you need to say to people, and take care as the days get darker!

Could there be anything else at the root of this? Could it stem from something other than the trees’ feelings and desires? Well, there is another mechanism in place worth mentioning. It’s the temperature that decides when it’s time for the leaves to fall, for the health of the trees, and all the other cycles connected to the trees, including our own. If the temperature does not drop enough in the fall, the trees won’t know it’s time to stop producing chlorophyll or when to develop their abscission cells. If the scissor mechanism isn’t developed in the leaves, rather than dropping with a quick snap, they simply hang on until they die—a less healthy outcome for the trees.

Maybe the trees aren’t trying to talk to us, but maybe we should learn to listen anyway. There are signs all around that the choices being made by humans are damaging the environment. Something is wrong with the trees—but maybe it’s humans who are missing the memo.