A Robe of Feathers by Thersa Matsuura

A Robe of Feathers by Thersa Matsuura

Author:Thersa Matsuura
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Catapult
Published: 2020-10-19T00:00:00+00:00


tip of the nose

“Sumimasen.” Mi bowed low to the businessman who bumped past her only to fall into the last empty seat on the train. She held the bow a moment longer, pressing her purse and shopping bag neatly against her stomach, letting a group of high school kids jump in. A boy wearing a pair of pants that desperately needed a belt clipped her shoulder.

“Watch it!”

She wanted to curse the teen, but didn’t. For as long as she could remember, Mi was certain that other people could hear her thoughts. Mostly, this made her painfully timid, but on occasion it roused an apprehension that escalated in leaps. Profuse sweating, hyperventilating, and what until that day she thought was the final step—a funny tic that heaved her shoulder to her ear, and snapped her head down to meet it. The headache that followed.

It was Wednesday, hospital day, and she was on her way home from visiting her grandmother-in-law in the city. The old woman never knew she was there. It made Mi a little jealous, actually. Sitting there, stroking the tiny, corded hand and imagining how happy the old woman must be, how enlightened, beyond worry of family, money, and bodily functions. If it just didn’t take so much living to get there, she thought.

Today Mi was late. She had dallied too long at the vegetable vender. There was a sale, one hundred yen off anything that grew on a vine. With two packs of strawberries in her hands, she debated if lotus root was considered a climber and missed her usual bus. As a result, she missed her usual train as well.

Now, begging to dissolve under the fluorescent lights, Mi read over and over the advertisement for Hamanako Boat Racing, trying to keep her mind off how much she truly disliked the people who rode the 8:45.

Two years ago Mi’s mother-in-law declared that she would no longer observe hospital day. However, if Mi would go instead, she could probably find time to watch her six grandchildren—but for no more than three hours, once a week. Mi didn’t want to leave the house. It was only there, sunk and swollen in the daily commotion, that she found her head seemed to be completely unreadable. It was not so friendly outside.

But her grandmother-in-law had always been a kind woman and would soon reside in the family altar bestowing graces of health and good fortune to those she felt fit. It was the least that Mi could do.

Dressed in clothes that hadn’t fit her properly in years, she kissed each child on the forehead, checked her purse for a freshly ironed handkerchief, a package of tissues, and at least enough money for train and bus fare; she then kissed each child again, this time on the cheek.

The beltless boy was arguing loudly on his mobile phone. To make his point he held the device low and slapped the floor of the train with one hand. Mi winced.

Reading advertisements only worked for so long.



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