Aya Fujino
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The plum tree outside the laundromat finally bloomed
I have been watching it since January without telling anyone. Today it earned a whole post. Written slowly, read slowly — that is the whole deal here. Have…
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A quiet defense of doing nothing on Sundays
No errands, no plans, one long walk that counts as both. The week forgives everything after that. Written slowly, read slowly — that is the whole deal here.…
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Tea notes from a rainy Thursday
The kettle, the good cup, the window seat. None of it solves anything, which is exactly the point. Written slowly, read slowly — that is the whole deal…
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I mailed a letter to my future self
One year, sealed, stamped, hidden in the drawer with the manuals. Future me will either laugh or need it. Written slowly, read slowly — that is the whole…
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The walk where I stopped rehearsing arguments
Somewhere between the shrine steps and the crossing, the imaginary debate ran out of things to say. What stayed was the smell of rain. Written slowly, read slowly…
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Spring cleaning, but only one drawer
The whole flat can wait. One drawer, sorted properly, is a complete and legal amount of progress. Written slowly, read slowly — that is the whole deal here.…