The Waiting Woman
It was a cold day. That morning, he had had a tiff with his wife. Sundays were precious, and he had wanted to lie in, but his wife had insisted on nagging him about his salary. She had flung a pillow at him, and to crown it all she had slipped into her outdoor clothes and left the room.
The second floor of the lodging house, which sheltered four families including him and his wife, had its own cooking space and toilet. The toilet had a window, from which one could gaze directly down onto the cross roads with the cigarette shop.
Half-past four. Four packets of Ikoi lay on the table, and he was sipping the liquid from a fresh bowl of noodles. The woman was still in the same place, wearing a brooding expression. He flung his chopsticks down and sprawled out on his back on the tatami.
Evening was beginning to swathe the surroundings in a gloom from which the cross roads stood out pale and distinct. Still she was there. She was bending over the road, knees bent.
Yamakawa Masao was born in Tokyo in 1930. On February 20th of last year he died in an automobile accident at the age of thirty-four. Because of his rich talent and fresh style, he was regarded as the most promising writer of recent times, and his loss was widely lamented not only in literary circles but by the public at large.
The second floor of the lodging house, which sheltered four families including him and his wife, had its own cooking space and toilet. The toilet had a window, from which one could gaze directly down onto the cross roads with the cigarette shop.
Half-past four. Four packets of Ikoi lay on the table, and he was sipping the liquid from a fresh bowl of noodles. The woman was still in the same place, wearing a brooding expression. He flung his chopsticks down and sprawled out on his back on the tatami.
Evening was beginning to swathe the surroundings in a gloom from which the cross roads stood out pale and distinct. Still she was there. She was bending over the road, knees bent.
Yamakawa Masao was born in Tokyo in 1930. On February 20th of last year he died in an automobile accident at the age of thirty-four. Because of his rich talent and fresh style, he was regarded as the most promising writer of recent times, and his loss was widely lamented not only in literary circles but by the public at large.
This page was created on 2016/09/01
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