.... and I Will Be Flying On a Broomstick

  Breathe in. When the trees and the stones start to look the same, remember that it is an illusion. And listen, the wind never carries the same message twice. Breathe out. Breathe in. Time moves slowly in the woods. I forget why I was in a hurry to get somewhere and to be someone. Breathe out. Breathe in. The woods are less scary than the world outside. Here, I can stop and think and feel. Here, I can accept that change and death are a natural part of life. Breathe out. Breathe in. Sometimes, the best way to climb a mountain is 50 steps at a time. Sometimes, the best way to see the forest is to stop often and look at the trees. Sometimes, the best way to feel alive is to notice the moment your breath becomes air. Breathe out. @ Mt. Nijyo, Nara

There was a restaurant near a busy train station. A boy and a girl sat at a corner table, facing each other. Out of the corner of her eye, the girl noticed the waiter standing by the counter. She was almost certain he was trying his best not to stare but her vision was getting blurry. She blinked quickly and took a sip of the smoothie in front of her. The lights were too bright and other people’s laughter sounded too loud inside the restaurant. The smoothie tasted too sweet and the boy felt too far away from her. She could have ordered a cup of coffee but she didn’t because she knew she would have trouble falling asleep. She would find out later that she didn’t need caffeine to keep her awake through that night and many other nights that followed. The boy looked at his watch and said, “It’s getting late. I need to go back soon.” The girl didn’t need Google Translate to know that he actually meant, “It’s time for me to leave you.” The words “Don’t go” bubbled up in her throat li