Takahiro was welcoming the daybreak with peaceful sipping of green tea. It
was more religious ritual to him then the religious prays he will send to his
ancestors in a wake up.
He was young but had no time to live
as the young men in his village – too
poor to go at Master Itsuro’s calligraphy school, too poor to even marry. Takahiro was just working and working to pay
off the circling debts of his household.
He was flipping the beads of the abacus and hoping to see some bill
wiped off till new would jump in front of his daily needs. The only thing that still reminded him of the
calligraphy dreams was the blue china handled brush which he used for balancing the books and keeping the bills.
His fragile old parents would be up in an hour or so, just when the sun hits the bottom of the sliding
window. By then he will be finished with
the tea, with some numbers and bookkeeping done and maybe half way down on his way
to the rice fields of his neighbours. If
the neighbours were well inclined, he might even win a good daily rate.
Now, however, for a short moment he
had stopped to enjoy a good morning tea, shift a bead or two on the abacus strings and
pet gently with the back of his index finger the grey feathers of his dwarf owl that was perched on the broken hemp mosquito mesh gathering some sun rays and warmth…
Till our
next break of dawn,
Sophia
© 2015
- sophia terra~ziva. all rights
reserved
Takahiro was welcoming the daybreak with peaceful sipping of green tea. It was more religious ritual to him then the religious prays he will send to his ancestors in a wake up.best matcha powder melbourne
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