The Sea of Trees Page #2

No.

No, I don't.

What's wrong?

Are you okay?

Just dizzy.

Hello?

Is anybody there?!

Hello?!

Hello!

There is no one.

Then what was that?

Tamashii.

What's tamashii?

Tamashii are spirits.

They are souls

wandering these woods

until it is their time.

Things are not

what they seem here.

It was probably just an animal.

There are very few animals

in aokigahara.

Well, then it was

one of the few.

This place

is what you call purgatory.

Now, why would I call it that?

Because you are American.

- So?

- You believe in god.

I'm a scientist.

There are answers for this

in science?

There are answers

for everything in science.

But not in god?

God is more our creation

than we are his.

So... why end your life?

Excuse me?

If god is not waiting for you

on the other side,

who is?

Why do you want to die?

I'm here sightseeing.

For sightseeing?

What?

I don't know

who the hell you are...

...but I stopped to help you.

- You did.

- Yeah, I did.

Hey!

I can't... can't move.

Get away from me.

I don't want your help.

'Cause... 'Cause of a job?

Huh?

You got a wife and kid

to go home to

and that's not enough for you.

- On three!

- No, what are you doing?

- One!

Two! Three!

- No! No!

Hi.

You okay?

Yeah.

I'm sorry.

I must've dozed off.

Is this the jacket

i bought you?

Yeah.

You like it?

It's comfortable.

You okay?

You could've burned

the house down, Joan.

I said I was sorry.

I almost stopped off

at the store on the way home.

If I had...

- Yeah, yeah.

The house would be

in ashes right now.

Okay?

Is me telling you

how right you are

enough to keep this from

turning into an argument?

It's not the house

that I was concerned about.

You're home early.

Should I feel about that too?

It was just

an observation, Joan.

You see it all, don't you?

Yeah. You know what?

I do.

I see it all.

I see you stopped by the bar.

I did, right after I sold

my second house this week.

Well, I'd say

we should celebrate,

but obviously

you already have.

I'm a grown woman.

You're a clich.

I'm a grown woman.

That's an alcoholic.

Funny how

the so-called alcoholic's

the one who pays the mortgage.

What's your excuse?

- For what?

Get a job.

- I have a job.

- A real job.

Not one that pays

20 grand a year.

I like what I do, Joan.

Uh-huh, about as much

as you like that jacket.

- Like I said, it's--

- comfortable. Yeah, I know.

What's wrong with that?

- You don't care anymore.

- About what?

Anything!

It's like you've settled

on some lesser version

of yourself.

Why can't you just

be happy for me?

Because I'm too busy

feeling bad for myself.

At least you admit it.

That I have a husband that

continuously puts himself first

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