I was leaving on a trip to run a marathon on the West coast, my first marathon, and my son was wishing me good luck on his pre-school’s doorstep. Nothing abnormal in appearance but I was in shock as he would usually only say these things after we reminded him to. Here, him and I were parting for a few weeks and no cue had been given.
I had just witnessed my son’s first own-willed expression of love and care. It left me speechless, teary eyed and looking forward to my race.
"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
Sparrow Noise
Birthday walk home
"Dear Cigarettes"