Short Story | Sitting at the Entrance of Spring / Polar Bear Literature Club / A Story Like a Poem

On a sunny day,
I bake bread as if on a whim.

Ham left in the back of the fridge,
and lettuce that has lost a little of its vitality.
Even if the shapes are uneven,
if you stack them, they become a proper sandwich.

Coffee in the pot.
The steam is still white, like a remnant of winter.

On the way to the park,
the wind lightly lifts the hem of my coat.
As if to say, "It's almost here."

When I sit on the bench,
the laughter of children
is released into the sky, and then returns.

I try to open my book, but stop.

More than the pages,
this air
seems to want to be read right now.

I take a deep breath.

The smell of bread, the smell of soil, and
the creaking sound of a swing in the distance.

From somewhere, a soft scent of grass, too.

Nothing has happened.
But, it is perfectly full.

Ah,

I think,

this is enough.

It doesn't have to be flashy.
It doesn't have to be for someone else to see.

Like this,
sitting at the entrance of spring,
I am confirming my own heartbeat.

Like the cross-section of a sandwich,
today is properly layered.

Just that.

I am happy.

I am participating in the Polar Bear Literature Club.
Director Komaki, thank you as always!
This time's theme
is a literary work starting with "On a sunny day."

I am weaving small stories called [A Story Like a Poem].
If today's story has touched your heart,
—that alone makes me happy. Thank you.
I will continue to gently put the light and shadows of daily life into words.
🌸 [A Story Like a Poem] 🌸
→ Click here for the A Story Like a Poem magazine

I have started a magazine about "writing," not limited to novels.
✍️ In this magazine, I will write about small events related to writing and the behind-the-scenes of creation.
I would be happy if I could gently accompany your "I want to try writing again."
📘 Click here for the magazine