TYPHOONS AND TAXIS
The day I invited my host mom to come visit my grandma,
a typhoon came.
We were at Tsurukawa Station, 15 minutes from the care facility.
The wind tore at our hair.
The rain soaked her tights and my jeans.
"Do you want to turn around?" I asked my host mom.
"We've come this far," she said.
We waited for the bus.
No bus came.
"Are you sure you want to go?" I asked.
"I'm sure," she said. "We'll take a taxi."
We flagged one down,
bought clementine oranges and daifuku
for my grandma, and spent a peaceful hour chatting
until we the care staff called our taxi,
and arrived home dripping.
Now we are dry, and we laugh about it.
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