Happy birthday to me. This was the quietest birthday in 21 years, and the quietest countdown to the new year. The shrines hit the bells at midnight and the people were silent. Our luggages were packed and waiting, and we wrapped ourselves up on the couch listening to the bells. That morning I had felt a churning stone of discontentment, because birthdays come with restlessness and 21st birthdays are supposed to be the best birthdays. But the day that unfolded slowly in its muted form was as it should have been: the soft white daifuku ichigo from becky, the stationery shop, the sweet children, the restful last day of a very restless year.
Monday, January 07, 2008
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