airmail home

the friendly employees of the Higashi Kurume post office probably looked at the two puffy yellow envelopes with their nested instructions and were uncertain about tackling even the most general one. i see nin, who has carried them here in the basket of her bike after having packaged them up (separate but equal, because you just never know about those _________ [headwinds, loose shipped pets, thieving customs officials—insert your occupational hazard of choice]). she thought about writing サ—ビア (instead of "Serbia & Montenegro"), about bringing a map, about craning her head through the glass barrier to give some guidance. i imagine, once the country had been found, once the postage (comparable to Japan-US!) had been paid, once the immediate obstacle had been cleared away, that nearly everyone who'd worked on the interchange took to wondering just why someone with an address in that-place-in-the-middle-of-over-there would be in need of, would see home in konnyaku gumi, WordCards, and English language fiction (albeit authored by nissei—of Indian and one of Japanese descent). times two.

the explaining i leave for that mother of mine, for whom nowhere is (and is not) too far.

also: despite what the ticket says, i'm very much not on a plane today.