little sarah Big World

Tag: trains

Transit(ion)

Rain Tunnel Reflection

(Nozomi Shinkansen – Tokyo to Kobe)

*       *       *

What if there was nothing to fix?

What if I didn’t need to be working on anything

or Improving

Accomplishing

What if I am just fine, as is?

What if I have inherent value

even if I’m not productive, useful, helpful

even if I’m not striving to better myself

What if there is a me, a self, that exists beyond my labels, my relationships, my possessions and passions

A fire that burns inside, a small light

that is

in and of itself

Enough. Read the rest of this entry »

Presently

buildings and wires

We live in an apartment on the fourth floor of a pink building with a dinosaur on the side. He’s a mascot for the laundromat downstairs.

Next door is a “Girl’s Bar,” in a black building so close you could reach out our bedroom window and touch it. Must be a tame locale–we’ve never heard any music, laughter, or shouting.

Just around the corner is a blue building with an Okinawan food restaurant, where we speak Spanish to our Japanese waitress.

There’s a partially-covered highway just down the street, and we use it as a landmark on our long, winding runs. A sort of homing device.

We’re about 2 blocks away from Makuharihongo station, and at night we can hear the trains passing in the near distance, going “shk-shk-shk.”

Spanish meets English meets Japanese meets French

Across the street is a French-style bakery named Elefante, where we get sandwiches for picnics with friends, or sweet buns and pastries on lazy weekend mornings.

There’s a grocery store, a convenience store, a dollar store and a discount liquor mart, all within a one-block radius.

It’s a small, sleepy commuter suburb, but it has everything we need. It’s our little corner of the world, and it’s perfect.

*       *       *

Read the rest of this entry »

Tucson, Arizona

 

~OR~

One Week Ago, Today

a little blurry, but still

I will never understand how I can hop in a car, or catch a plane, and within hours be in a completely different place. A different day. A different climate. Even a different season. It feels like time travel. It feels like cheating. It feels surreal, and nonsensical, and like magic.

The Best Day of My Life

~OR~

The Facts:

I bought my dress second-hand, paid for it in cash. $32.61. I knew as soon as I tried it on that it was the dress I would get married in. A winter wedding dress.

Literally everything was borrowed or second-hand, except my pantyhose. Which tore and ran before the ceremony.

Read the rest of this entry »