As I am laughing at paper soldiers, a city bus made of Rasha stops in front of me. I have no choice but to count coins in my pocket. I must get on the bus and run away. Because a small thread ball of silk that emits a faint gloss chases me.

The thread ball creeps at my feet while I do not notice it. Sneaking up from the hem of my coat to the collar, it turns into a single thread from the mass and will begin to tighten neck slowly.

The cook of a Chinese restaurant who had useless feather on the right arm was the first victim. It happened when he was persistently explaining the type of distilled spirits to customer at the counter. The customer wanted something to drink with his eyes closed whatever alcohol was.

She has been forgetting me. A decade ago, we sat together around the rotating table full of boiled crabs – I remember.  She passes by me without catching my line of sight thrown from the window on the bus. Only the confetti will remain swirling in the wind.

…
hiromi suzuki is a poet, novelist and artist living in Tokyo, Japan. She is the author of Ms. cried – 77 poems by hiromi suzuki (Kisaragi Publishing, 2013), logbook (Hesterglock Press, 2018), INVISIBLE SCENERY (Low Frequency Press, 2018), Andante (AngelHousePress, 2019). Her works have been published internationally in poetry journals, literary journals and anthologies.
Web site: https://hiromisuzukimicrojournal.tumblr.com

*Note: This prose is one of the first poetry collection Ms. cried – 77 poems by hiromi suzuki (kisaragi publishing, 2013 ISBN978-4-901850-42-1) written in Japanese has been translated by hiromi suzuki in 2019.