Perhaps it was because I was lost in thought. Before I knew it, I was being blown by the wind, walking along a park path wherever it led me. How far had I come? At times running, at times skipping, and at others stepping to a rhythm—”Un, deux, trois!”—I simply kept moving forward with singular focus.
Then, the wind died down slightly. Perhaps because of that, a single crow caught my eye. It perched on a tree branch, staring intently at me. For some reason, I felt a sense of danger.
“Look, that guy is staring at a crow!”
A passing boy was mocking me. His mother scolded him sharply, her voice full of irritation.
“Don’t say such rude things! Don’t get involved with him!”
When I shifted my gaze back to the branch, the crow had already taken flight. At that moment, the wind surged even more violently. As I turned toward the direction the wind was coming from, it felt as though I had been punched in the face. Straining to keep my footing and not tumble over, I had no choice but to push onward.
The wind pressed against my back without mercy. It was as if it wouldn’t permit me to stop, or perhaps it intended to trip me up. It felt like a warning not to go any further. I was terrified of tripping; I knew I could be slammed against the ground. Desperately flailing my legs, I focused only on putting one foot in front of the other and kicking off the earth.
How far had I traveled? Before I realized it, I had left the park. Teetering on my feet, I looked around to find myself on a riverside path. A young woman on a bicycle came pedaling from the opposite direction. In spite of myself, I felt a spark of expectation and glanced at her legs. She was wearing jeans. Slumped in despair, I pitched forward, nearly falling as I forged ahead. As the woman passed me, she let out a triumphant snort of laughter. I don’t know why, but in that instant, I was suddenly filled with energy.
