First Snow
In a few hours time, I leave for Kyoto, a place that holds my very first memories of working in Japan, and more importantly, the memories of the weekend when we first met.
The first step into that room would change my life forever. The first smile, the first hello from the woman I would years later forever pledge my life and heart to.
I recall the laughter and the conversations,the easy warmth of the vodka, the biting cold of the wind outside. I recall a panicked Alwyn, knocking frantically on my door after I invited you in for a cup of coffee, and a hysterical Maggie, who cried herself into a drunk stupor for fear her friend had fallen into the hands of a crazed madman.
I remember the smell of the sisig that relieved the queasiness in our stomachs, the afternoon spent at the shops and the karaoke room. I remember how we rushed to get you on the bullet train to meet your boss on your way back to Nagoya.
After all these years, I still remember it all.
Yes, that was the first time I ever set sight on snow. But what I remember most vividly is the feel of your hand in mine as we walked down the road, neither of us knowing what was in store for the future, as the first of the crystal snowflakes gently grazed our faces.