| Nov252007 | Bullet Train |
Riding the bullet train between Tokyo and Kyoto, the sun starts hitting me in my eyes. I pull down the blind.
At the next stop, a young-looking man in a red sweater starts crouching to peer underneath the blind. Across the aisle from me, the boy says goodbye to his father through the window. The red sweatered man waves back and I think this is what childhood memories are made of.
I push the blind all the way up and pretend to be asleep.
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