The story goes that a little station in Hokkaido stayed open for years with one regular passenger, a schoolgirl, and the trains ran around her classes. She graduated in March. The station closed that same month.
The old man at the laundromat folds whatever's left in the dryers, his or not. Today a woman came back, found her sweaters stacked like a shop display, and refolded every single one. He just nodded, like she'd passed a test.
The man at the key cutting kiosk keeps a jar of keys nobody came back for. He says he can't throw them out because somewhere there's a door still waiting.