Post by Deleted on Oct 18, 2018 13:37:58 GMT -6
Wondrous.
That was the only way to describe the change in weather. WIth pleasure, Bian pulled her heavier wool kimonos out of the closet and put her lighter summer yukata in their place. It was perfect weather to visit the park, and she intended to make the most of the morning as possible. For today, she selected a kimono made of deep ochre wool and an obi made of a deep red wool, with the faintest imprints of even darker red maple leaves.
Running her fingers through her short grey hair, she examined herself in her mirror with satisfaction. She may not have been a young woman any longer, but she certainly could look worse.
After leaving directions with her staff, she set off for the park.
—-
The park was unusually empty, save for a handful of park maintenance workers and health-conscious joggers. She found herself in what was unofficially called the Pai Sho Square. This clearing was filled with wooden benches and round wooden tables, the tops of the tables painted with pai sho squares. It was an unspoken rule in the community that the pai sho tiles were a collective responsibility, and each table was outfitted with a complete set — mismatched, collected from a hodge podge of replacements over the years for damaged tiles or tiles that went missing after a particularly inquisitive child or animal discovered it.
Fancying a game, she sat down at one of the tables and waited. Someone was bound to be along soon, and til then the neighbourhood Grandma was content puffing on her long pipe and watching the sun rise.
That was the only way to describe the change in weather. WIth pleasure, Bian pulled her heavier wool kimonos out of the closet and put her lighter summer yukata in their place. It was perfect weather to visit the park, and she intended to make the most of the morning as possible. For today, she selected a kimono made of deep ochre wool and an obi made of a deep red wool, with the faintest imprints of even darker red maple leaves.
Running her fingers through her short grey hair, she examined herself in her mirror with satisfaction. She may not have been a young woman any longer, but she certainly could look worse.
After leaving directions with her staff, she set off for the park.
—-
The park was unusually empty, save for a handful of park maintenance workers and health-conscious joggers. She found herself in what was unofficially called the Pai Sho Square. This clearing was filled with wooden benches and round wooden tables, the tops of the tables painted with pai sho squares. It was an unspoken rule in the community that the pai sho tiles were a collective responsibility, and each table was outfitted with a complete set — mismatched, collected from a hodge podge of replacements over the years for damaged tiles or tiles that went missing after a particularly inquisitive child or animal discovered it.
Fancying a game, she sat down at one of the tables and waited. Someone was bound to be along soon, and til then the neighbourhood Grandma was content puffing on her long pipe and watching the sun rise.