A Row of Willow Trees
Started: November 27, 2005
Finished: February 04, 2006
He turned his back when the other pushed armfuls of clothes into the suitcase hazardously. He didn't look when the other walked to the door, not even when he heard the soft click that closed it.
The next day he came home to an empty house.
And the day after that.
And after that.
He kissed the side of the thin frame then traced back to the heaving stomach with cloudy breaths. He caught one knee with his hand and placed butterfly kisses along the soft thigh. He moved back up, one hand clamped around a slender wrist, the other ghosting over the other side of the abdomen. He placed a kiss near the half-closed blue eye, one near the right earlobe and one on the throat.
They moved in together in the fall.
His mother stopped her monthly visit and he stopped calling home.
Two: Coffee Break
It was when he reached the third book of the trilogy that he noticed the new employee of the cafe. The soft jaw line and the blue eyes gave him a strange sense of déjà vu. He thought he might had seen this person from somewhere before.
One: A Row of Willow Trees
There's a row of willow trees near his childhood home and every month the old teacher would gave it a trim the way Ms. Kuruta did to her sons' hairs. The older one would sat quietly while the younger one thrash and squirm.
He remembers watching them absentmindedly while waiting for his mother when Ms. Kuruta beckon to him and offer to trim his hair.
His mother had smile and said a soft thank you to the young miss when she get back, but from then on, always make sure she has time to take him out for a hair cut at the barber store.
Ms. Kuruta never offer to trim his hair again, and once a month, her sons would sat on an old stool in their front yard, the older one quietly and still while the younger one chat animatedly with their mother, swaying his dark hairs.