more days at the torunka cafe – satoshi yagisawa
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I mean, it was weird. My mother shouldn’t be here. She died three years ago. After a brief battle against her disease for less than a year, she left me all alone. So then how could she be back in the apartment, looking every bit like she still lived there, ironing laundry like everything was perfectly normal?
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“I’m dreaming, right?” “You are.” “What the—” “Isn’t it nice, though, even if it is a dream?” Her voice sounded so carefree that it ended up making me relax too, somehow. All right, fine. I plopped down in front of my mother. We were both bathed in the reassuring light of a Bonnard painting.
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“A rose doesn’t bloom to be beautiful, it’s beautiful because it blooms with all its might.” It’s a line from a movie by the king of comedy, Charlie Chaplin.
Impresie. Albastru inefabil... 