I dreamt I rode a wooden horse, as from an old-fashioned merry-go-round, colorful and smooth from a century's worth of shellac.
I rode that horse and the horse was hooked to the back of the Yamanote Line train.
"Well, this is new!" I thought when I saw that horse and I climbed right on.
The Yamanote line train circles central Tokyo at high speed, speeds especially fast if you're flying through windy tunnels trying to keep a grip on a wooden horse. There was nothing to hold onto; the horse was so smooth I was sure I'd slide right off onto the tracks.
Finally, the train stopped at Ebisu. "This is appallingly dangerous," I thought. "I should get off here." But I hated back-tracking and, anyway, I was already late.
Two old obasan hurried up to me then. "You've got to put your feet in the stirrups!" They didn't wait for me, but each grabbed a foot and stuck it into a stirrup.
In another second I was off again, my bright horse chasing the Yamanote Line train.
No comments:
Post a Comment