MOVED

This is a telephone card! In Japan, these were printed by NTT and would have prepaid points to allow users to walk up to Green Phones (緑色の公衆電話) and make calls. In order to make them more appealing, companies got the idea to include limited or exclusive designs. Now that most people have cellphones, these aren't really used anymore, making telephone cards a niche collector's item rather than usable product. Some of the rarest telephone cards can go for over 1 Million Yen amongst collectors - yes, really!

That brings us to today's found item - the Bokumono SFC telephone card! This was featured in a very small section of Shougakukan 4th Grade Elementary Student's Magazine (小学館 小学四年生), 1997/June.

This teleca was presented as an award for winning the "Please Name My Pup!" contest during the serialization of the Bokujou Monogatari Special Comic! Readers were asked to submit names to become the "name parent", now that the dog had showed up as of the latest chapter. The dog would, in a later chapter, go on to be identified as Momonosuke (モモノスケ)!

The card was only given to one winner, so there's only one of its kind out there - making it one of the rarest to exist! In addition to the card, there was also a one-of-a-kind autographed signature board with the dog featured upfront and center, with Pete in the corner. Unfortunately, the hunt is still on for that one!

Please enjoy! This is 1200 x 800 resolution (96 dpi).

FRUiTS 140

  A year has passed since that night, but nothing has really changed Our house is still rubble, our streets still carry the smell of smoke, and the sky still echoes with sounds that make Amira flinch in her sleep. She has just turned one. She’s learning to walk, holding my finger with her tiny hand, laughing at the smallest things — as if she doesn’t see the destruction around her. She doesn’t know the word “loss.” She never met her father, but when she smiles, I see him there. Sometimes I watch her sleeping, and I wonder what kind of world she will grow up in — whether she will ever know what peace feels like, what home smells like. And yet, when she opens her eyes in the morning and says “mama,” everything becomes bearable again. I want to rebuild our home. Not just for the walls — but for her future. For Amira to have a small room, a safe place to dream, a life that belongs to her, not to war. I’m not asking for much. Only for a chance to give her a beginning filled with warmth instead of fear

 A Mother’s Message