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1275psi -> RE: herbiesan vs Cantona!!! (5/13/2010 8:34:28 AM)
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The area bordering the Sumida river in tokyo is the most heavily populated in the world. It is a bewildering area of tiny alley ways, blind streets, and a tremendous jumble of wooden buildings - a riot of construction seemingly out of control -yet so absolutely japanese in its neatness and cleanliness -despite the tiny size of so many of these buildings.
Through this maze Nakamura moves unerringly - it has been two years, yet he turns at each alley intersection as if he has never left -steadily moving towards the river.
He reaches the road that parrallels the river, the intersection of the bridge -and quickly now - strides towards the familiar building.
The shop, still dark inside -and Mr Yashimoto is still there - he nods his way, accepting the bow of honour -he has not changed that old, old man - then the stairs to the upper rooms, narrow, the third step still squeaks -the door.
He hesitates, and there is doubt, and worry, and fear, and desire, and longing -and gently, gently, he opens it.
She is there -her back to him -kneeling over -sewing? - her long dark hair as beautiful as ever.
For a moment he takes her in, yes, she is as always , beautiful.
'Sentsuko?'
She turns, and time stops.
The sewing drops, and his wife, his wife, Oh, his wife -is in his arms, and the tears, the tears, and yes -he is home, and THIS is THE World, and she is still beautiful, and he is lost in her sweet, sweet perfume..............
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