Thursday, 8 May 2014


We drove home from taiko practice, the shrine dog's barks echoing around the mountain. At the bottom of the hill we stopped. The road stretched straight ahead, fields and trees on either side. We heard the drums faintly but they were drowned out by frogs, cicadas, crickets, bats. The night smelled pungent and heady, a quarter moon shining dully on the cedars. Wandering along the road, the kei car's lights flashed orange behind us as we chased after fireflies, the first I've ever seen. They glowed a fresh green in slow flashes, the length of a breath.

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