(no subject)
Sometimes when I'm riding my bike around the narrow streets of Kyoto I find myself riding behind a fairly slow-moving older woman. Instead of getting mad at this minor inconvenience and speeding up to get around her, I just stick back for a while and follow until one of us makes a turn.
Sometimes I like to pretend that the woman in front of me is actually my mother; an alternate-reality mom that is Japanese, stays healthy, and tells me that we're going to the store to buy salmon and radish and if I want I can buy some candy while we're there.
While bicycling behind her I wonder where we're going and what we're going to do when we get there. "Are we there yet?" I'd ask. She'd chastise me lightly and tell me that we're almost there, just a little further. Keep going, gambatte! Alternate-reality me is apparently 12 years old.
I keep that happy image in my head up until the point that she goes her own way, and I'm left back in reality, 20 years old, bicycling back to my dorm alone.
Sometimes I like to pretend that the woman in front of me is actually my mother; an alternate-reality mom that is Japanese, stays healthy, and tells me that we're going to the store to buy salmon and radish and if I want I can buy some candy while we're there.
While bicycling behind her I wonder where we're going and what we're going to do when we get there. "Are we there yet?" I'd ask. She'd chastise me lightly and tell me that we're almost there, just a little further. Keep going, gambatte! Alternate-reality me is apparently 12 years old.
I keep that happy image in my head up until the point that she goes her own way, and I'm left back in reality, 20 years old, bicycling back to my dorm alone.