In this memory, I’m five years old. On Christmas morning, my brother and I wake up early. In the living room, I can hear my mother working on some tasks. It’s all quiet. We both jump out of blankets and walk through the open sliding door between the two rooms. My mother is here sitting. […]
Christmas Presents Read More »
In this memory, I’m about ten. I’m walking down the street with my mother when we come across the mother of someone we know. She and my mother start chatting, and after a while, I hear a question. “Do you have any sibling?” That routine question. I almost sigh because I know exactly how this
Scared of fallingScared of what lies beyondI hold my breathAs I dance around the world The thing about this cliffIs that it’s everywhereThere is no tellingWhen you are about to fall That’s why I have to be carefulReminding myselfEvery step I takeI could be at the very edge But sometimes I wonderWhat really lies Beyond
Cliff of Embarrassment Read More »
In this memory, I’m twelve years old. We are in the middle of a large family gathering at my aunt’s house, and I’m sitting at the dining table with my grandmother. Suddenly, she mentions my late little brother who passed away when he was turning three. She tells me about the day he was born
Several summers ago, I was in Sheffield, England, studying at a university there. Since there was no class to attend during summer months, I started to spend my weekends visiting some of the villages in the Peak District, the country’s famous mountain region to the West of Sheffield. I bought a guidebook of the area,
Under the Blue Sky Read More »
The year when I was nineteen, I was in Tokyo preparing for the university entrance exam. It was the first time I’d left my hometown and lived on my own, and my parents notified all the relatives and family friends in the area to watch out for me. One of those people was my father’s
Inside the parkIn the neighbourhoodThere is a skate rinkThat appears only in winter Five thirtyAfter workI’m standing on the iceWearing my skates, wabbly SlowlyI start movingPushing my left footThen my right foot A little girl arrivesWith her motherThey glide on the iceChasing each other, practicing I hear the girl’s voiceShe is learning how to skateYes,
Separate but shared Read More »
I’m four years old in this memory. One summer day, I’m staring at the kitchen floor of our tiny half-dilapidated apartment. I’d just slithered on my stomach from the living room, and now, half of my body is sprawled on the kitchen floor while the other half remains in the living room. The cool touch
Memory of a Floor 2 Read More »
In this memory, I’m four years old. I’m in the backroom of our tiny half-dilapidated apartment, lying on my stomach with my eyes pressed against the floor. Several shiny green strips mark the gaps between the Japanese straw mats covering the floor, and one of them is right in front of my eyes. These green
The spring I entered junior high school, the whole first year went on an overnight trip to the northern part of our prefecture. It was a trip our new teachers organized for us as a radical icebreaker, giving us a chance to get to know our new friends outside of the school environment. Each class
