: like the first day of school; bejeweled sun, youthful wind, sentinel clouds; O-sensei shows me the wild raspberries growing on the edge of the forest by the bus stop; visited 2A and 2C for the first time in a while; reading their compositions; natsuyasumi stories about visiting relatives, catching frogs, running from wasps; You haven’t been here in a while, I say to a student who’s from Korea, maybe 6 months new and whose English is quite good. Where have you been? “Home,” he says. Well, I’m glad you’re back; sit with 3-nensei students, tearing up pieces of magazine for their mosaic; I work in yellow; three 3-nensei boys are holding a printout of a girl in a French maid outfit; Is that for your costume for the school festival? “Yes,” they say. “This is Japanese culture,” they laugh; they paint crinkled malleable paper and shape it into patterns; red, brown, yellow, blue; the plans I excitedly generate fall backward into mirages; sudden burst shower; dinner indecision; this apartment is awkward adolescent.
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