Yoshinori San
hired his young neighbour Takahiro for the season of harvesting rice – a hard worker, didn’t talk much and
easy to agree on any offer.
He paid him a bag of rice. An old darned sakabukuro sake bag full of
black rice.
The young man looked at it, eyes hard
to read, bowed down low to Yoshinori San as the order called, accepted the bag
and took his pay.
When he was back in his lowly home, he
grabbed two small stump carved stools, found a warm sunny spot in the back of
their yard, sat on one of the stools, placed the sewn bag on the other and
poured the rice out of it. He clearly
was mulling over what chances he’s got to sell it and get some money to cover
the medical bills for his frail parents.
Or should he just make them some hearty meal and feed them well.
He had to find a way
out of it!
Till we meet the sun again,
Sophia
© 2015 - sophia terra~ziva. all
rights reserved
Lovely prose and beautiful photo. The light is wonderful.
ReplyDeleteSo happy to see you here, Joan!
DeleteI must admit the winter sunlight of our part of the world never lets me down.
Thank you for your kind words.