some moments from summer

YOKOSUKA, again.

a town I knew, yet I had never been.

   I don't even know why, because I never get into the bar to drink by myself.
   but at the night, I just did. and I met those boys.
   As I talked to them, something vague, yet very intense, flitted through my mind.
   That very moment, I noticed, that I knew them.
  Of course I had never ever seen them, or I will never won't see them again, 
  however I knew those people. 
  because I can see them used to be so bored at the classes, 
  hanging out at the mall after school. 
  because that is what I used to be so familiar with.
  That eyes, that hair, that cars, the way they talk.
  and then I suddenly remember everything, like every single small pieces.
  Late night in this small town which I had never been, had nothing common with me by then,
  The memoir, reminiscence, or just this peculiar sensation I cannot even name of, 
  overwhelmed me at the motel room.
  
    

Visiting a birthplace of Raymond Carver

After the hard rain, huge rainbows were seen from the bus window.

"Jesus christ paid for our sins".

Hospital which Carver was born.

Inside of the hospital.

I visited a small town called Clatskanie several hours away by bus from Portland,

for tracing Raymond Carver, renowned as minimalistic American literture.

I took a bus there, and there were only a man and myself on the bus.

After the guy got off the bus, 

I was actually the only one going to the Clatskanie.

I Passed a few small villages with abandoned barns and huts

 in the forest were seen here and there.

Seeing those sceneries through the bus window, 

I found that this IS the landscape I like the most, 

which is the nature, but not completely, with the thin, 

faint touches or feel of the human being.  

While those landscapes are often rather sad and depressing, 

at the same time, for some reason, 

they make me feel quiet and relieved in a very peculiar manner.

The hard rain was falling at that time, 

so I came in the old diner, so obscure and dim inside,

the only customer there was the a middle-aged woman 

who was playing pinballs with her vacant face. 

I ordered "Jr" sandwich to the another middle-aged lady there  

with dirty blonde hair with a hoarse voice 

(Somehow most of the women I met there spoke with that kind of voice). 

In a moment the rain stopped moment, 

I got out of the diner and went to see a stone monument of the Raymond Carver at the li.

That said, "WILL YOU PLEASE BE QUIET, PLEASE?”.

I took a few pictures, and left.

The rain started falling again, so I went in the small coffee shop at the town this time. 

I ordered a cup of coffee, and opened the Carver's short stories to read. 

The waitress, probably the local girl, came to me over and over again

 to pour another cup of coffee as soon as I drunk only half of the cup, 

so I could not help drinking the weak coffee as water.