[02 Aug 2003|03:03am] "this much skin" 4-8-2001 Ferozan stepped out of the bath on Saturday evening just as she sensed the water was starting to grow cold. With only a towel around her body, she walked down the hall to her bedroom. Ferozan had recently purchased a full-length mirror, which replaced the smaller mirror she'd normally stood in front of when she brushed her hair. In the dark quiet of midnight, Ferozan stood, brushing her thick hair, untangling all the knots, letting the bottom seven-eighths of the mirror's reflective surface go to waste. The evening was warm, and the surface of Ferozan's skin still retained the heat of the bath. She pulled the wiry brush through her hair again and again. She held the end of her hair with the hand that wasn't brushing. Again and again she winced as she pulled the brush through her hair. Just as Ferozan pondered slipping into her pajamas and lying down in bed, she also pondered sleeping in the nude. The night was so warm and pleasantly rainy, the damp breeze was flowing in through the windows; it was the perfect night to sleep with only a single, thin sheet covering her body. Ferozan winced as she thought this, both because she was ashamed to think such a thing and because she had just, at that time, pulled the hairbrush through a particularly persistent knot. The towel that covered Ferozan's body was still damp, and it was losing the heat of the bathwater far more quickly than her skin. The surface of the towel gave off the perfumed scent of damp cloth, and as the breeze whispered through her room, Ferozan could smell only the smell of the towel. Ferozan set the brush atop her dresser, then undid the fold on the towel and let it slide to the floor. When she looked at herself in the full-length mirror, she realized how long it had been since she'd seen herself fully naked. She closed her eyes after seeing her reflection for just a second. The smell of the damp towel and the gentle tapping of the rain combined with a thought Ferozan was not equipped to understand, and she opened her eyes. She could never remember seeing so much of the surface of her skin at once. The imperfect beauty of her naked body struck her as no notion more complicated than the single thought, "I really do have this much skin." Ferozan spoke these words aloud. Ferozan had been a woman for some time, and she was denying herself something. Ferozan smiled, and as she smiled, she saw herself smile, and as she saw herself smile, she wondered when the last time was she'd seen such a beautiful thing. 6 comments|post comment

sad word from japan [02 Aug 2003|01:33pm] Got an email from Jun-chan just now. She writes: また3人でガスト行こうね！drink barしよう。 でもよく3人で行ったあのガスト最近閉店したんじゃよ...。思い出の場所だからちょっぴり悲しいよね。ガストが壊されてマンションが建つ予定よ。 Yes: The Gusto Skylark Diner me, Jun-chan, and Sachiko used to eat at has been teh closed down and marked for destruction. They're building more apartments in its place. That sucks ass. Places like Gusto, with their huge fries, get shut down, and stingy-bitch places like Saizeriya and Jonathon stay open. The Japanese have so little idea what makes an American-style family restaurant good, and it's a shame. Shit. Mourn, yo. the tateishi-yotsugi-yahiro yotsugibashimae gusto skylark family restaurant, near asakusa, shitamachi: 1969-2003 now it has fallen into teh a darkness of memory Mourn. 4 comments|post comment

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