vived on the pity of men and their desires until I ended up like a dead fish washed ashore.
Nothing stinks more than that. Why don’t you come over tomorrow. I can teach you how
to sew kimonos. It will occupy your mind. You need that. It’s how I’ve been able to mend
the pain from my past; that, and going as far away from Chiba as I could—though some
days it feels like I can’t travel far enough. The past is something that you carry on your
shoulders, Keiko. It’s a weight that can keep you down if you let it. So what do you say?
KEIKO: Sounds like a good idea. You’re such a good friend to me, Yuna.
YUNA : Oh, don’t mention it. How’s tomorrow afternoon?
KEIKO: I’ll go purchase some fabrics tomorrow afternoon, so let’s plan to meet after supper.
YUNA: I have fabrics you can use.
KEIKO: No, no. I insist to at least bring my own fabric.
YUNA: Fine. Tomorrow after supper it is then.
KEIKO: More tea?
YUNA: I should get going now. I have a hundred things that won’t do themselves alone.
Thanks for the tea, Keiko.
(YUNA rises and heads for the door. KEIKO follows.)
KEIKO:Thank you for coming, Yuna. I’ll see you tomorrow.
YUNA: For sure. Have a good night.
KEIKO: Good night.
(KEIKO returns to the tea room and continues to observe the ritualized
movement and esthetics of the Way of Tea.)
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