At first I thought to myself, those arrows aren’t travelling very far.
But then I realized that, right now, this was all the room they had to practice. But that they probably had plans and dreams of doing this elsewhere. Someplace bigger, sometime in the future.
And the only way they were going to get there was to focus now, on the target. Not just the one right in front of them, but the one in their mind’s eye, in the future.
Notch the arrow. Draw the bowstring. Breathe in.
"I'm from Libya," he said. I don't know what to say. It's as if he'd told me he'd just come from his father's funeral.
The first specialty coffee shop in Ikebukuro and Junkudo (bookstore) resonate.
Editing is interpreting.
The Riddle of Steel.
The man stands motionless in a crush of white-shirted salarymen, as they swarm past him, toward the single escalator.
Rêve de centre commercial-piscine
Birthday walk home