A hand
2004 Takayuki Kido
The rank of a child band passes over the side of the morning fair filled to vigor. On both sides of a way, the eaves of opening a shop stand in a row like the flags of all nations, and the way is dimming the breath of people who sew the meantime white. The farmers whose cheek is red and vegetables which is like a pearl. An old father repeat "There are fresh and delicious fruits!" On opposite side, a girl shouts "buy this, buy this, buy this!" Being rubbed by the stuffiness which can be steamed, like the lump of flesh given up by the group of an alligator, I did half-kilo purchase of the tomato, as everyone who is there did. It was very very red tomato, however it was slender, and small. Well-built he of opening a shop and wearing the hat said "It is an addition", and closing one eye, and made my hand grasp something, he began to pack other visitors' tomato by the hand.
When my hand was opened, the fruit of three grains of muscat had burst.
I swerved from people's stream to the byroad, and carefully pured in the skin of the muscat in a hand, flesh to the extent that it does not burst was transparent white. If contained in my mouth, sweet-sour abundance will spread to the limit of me. The elastic fiber is easily torn to pieces for my tooth. If I look up, most skies will break. When I go along the reverse side of opening a shop, and came out to the small open space of the blank of a morning fair, the golden morning sun put my eyes. -- And it carried out by disappearing in the branch on which the trees on which the leaf was dropped became emaciated.
In the middle of an open space, the youths of old-clothes sale are going back and forth hurriedly. When I sat on the round edge of a fountain at which water stops between winter, and I contained the remaining muscat in my mouth, the girl who had the coat of a khaki color on ran, and she squatted down immediately to the side. The small rat was seen at a girl's feet.
For a moment, all the neighboring faces turned.
Particularly loud voice can be heard from the way as overwhelmed by the crowd the way of opening a shop. Voice has cried for something same repeatedly. If I stand and look, a man will walk against people's stream, taking out the head out of a crowd and overlooking and the neighborhood. A sad shout of big him who impresses the blood of Arab. It turns out that the voice is calling it Ellen! as he approached.
When I asked "Are you the Ellen?", the girl who squatted down looked up at me.
I held the girl in my shoulder, I began to walk to a man's way. When the man had noticed it, he shook the hand greatly. I shook the hand again. The man laughed very joyfully. Even if a brawny mustache finishes shaving, in addition, the cheek is shown black. The man's jacket of black skin appears between crowds. The girl was beginning to cry unawares, lengthening a hand to a man. Whether I became fearful for her, or she have noticed herself being separated with him at last, anyhow, she could have the eyelid swollen crimson and had spilt the tear as tattering. I quickened my pace. And immediately after --
All the wounds embedded into me change to beauty -- was there such any fresh thing once? The hands connected in the mist which shines in the morning sun -- a warm big hand and uneasy small hand. Asking for each other, the hands connected firmly surround each body soon, and the inside of the excitement which is not awoke and done -- particularly -- the love as a cause of hate -- and every countless small grain of the existence called God of the huge and ambiguous steadfast existence which carries out intension of all business called raw and me is borne alone, and it carried out by rising to empty to empty as a huge suspension bridge like the wind tinctured with the passion which strokes my cheek frankly as one train which pushes forcibly the inside of darkness called the scene after which it yearned quickly again on.
When my hand was opened, the fruit of three grains of muscat had burst.
I swerved from people's stream to the byroad, and carefully pured in the skin of the muscat in a hand, flesh to the extent that it does not burst was transparent white. If contained in my mouth, sweet-sour abundance will spread to the limit of me. The elastic fiber is easily torn to pieces for my tooth. If I look up, most skies will break. When I go along the reverse side of opening a shop, and came out to the small open space of the blank of a morning fair, the golden morning sun put my eyes. -- And it carried out by disappearing in the branch on which the trees on which the leaf was dropped became emaciated.
In the middle of an open space, the youths of old-clothes sale are going back and forth hurriedly. When I sat on the round edge of a fountain at which water stops between winter, and I contained the remaining muscat in my mouth, the girl who had the coat of a khaki color on ran, and she squatted down immediately to the side. The small rat was seen at a girl's feet.
For a moment, all the neighboring faces turned.
Particularly loud voice can be heard from the way as overwhelmed by the crowd the way of opening a shop. Voice has cried for something same repeatedly. If I stand and look, a man will walk against people's stream, taking out the head out of a crowd and overlooking and the neighborhood. A sad shout of big him who impresses the blood of Arab. It turns out that the voice is calling it Ellen! as he approached.
When I asked "Are you the Ellen?", the girl who squatted down looked up at me.
I held the girl in my shoulder, I began to walk to a man's way. When the man had noticed it, he shook the hand greatly. I shook the hand again. The man laughed very joyfully. Even if a brawny mustache finishes shaving, in addition, the cheek is shown black. The man's jacket of black skin appears between crowds. The girl was beginning to cry unawares, lengthening a hand to a man. Whether I became fearful for her, or she have noticed herself being separated with him at last, anyhow, she could have the eyelid swollen crimson and had spilt the tear as tattering. I quickened my pace. And immediately after --
All the wounds embedded into me change to beauty -- was there such any fresh thing once? The hands connected in the mist which shines in the morning sun -- a warm big hand and uneasy small hand. Asking for each other, the hands connected firmly surround each body soon, and the inside of the excitement which is not awoke and done -- particularly -- the love as a cause of hate -- and every countless small grain of the existence called God of the huge and ambiguous steadfast existence which carries out intension of all business called raw and me is borne alone, and it carried out by rising to empty to empty as a huge suspension bridge like the wind tinctured with the passion which strokes my cheek frankly as one train which pushes forcibly the inside of darkness called the scene after which it yearned quickly again on.