Midnight in Edo

Moonlight caressed the cherry blossoms in Edo, giving them a silvery sheen with the faintest tint of pink. The dirt streets echoed with the voices of G.I.s, every now and again supplemented by the gentlest of laughs from painted-faced women. I waited at the corner of two dirt streets for her. Moments later, she closed the door of her home behind her and hurriedly walked towards me, eyes cast down. Her robe, kimonos I think they are called, was not made of silk nor did it have any embellishments, but it was of a light color and meticulously cleaned and so it gave off a slight glow in the moonlight. Her glossy black hair was precisely wrapped atop her head, and held in place by two unadorned lacquered sticks. She stopped to my side, though somewhat behind me, never once raising her eyes to mine, not even when I gestured where I would like to go.

We walked to a small garden on the outskirts of the city, she always dutifully behind me, I used to try to convince her to walk before me, but she always resisted, and without words there was little I could do. In the middle of this garden, upon a small hill there was a pavilion at the center of which was a weird statue, with two beams planted in the ground that were at least six feet tall, a beam running across the top that hung over a foot on each end, and a slightly shorter beam a little bit down from it. A primitive statue in a garden, the closest thing I could find to being romantic. At least it was always quiet this time of night.

I talked to her for hours on end, and she always listened patiently and silently. Sometimes I would hold her hand, kissing it every now and again. Sometimes I would pull her in close to me and kiss her over and over again. She didn't mind, she never resisted. She always silently let me do whatever I wanted.

My cell phone alarm goes off every weekday at six in the goddamn morning, barely ever enough time for me to get ready and get to work on time. After tapping and swiping furiously at my phone, trying to make it shut up, I roll over to admire my wife. Silently, she is sleeping at the far side of the bed.