Even after washing up, I can't see who I'll be next
When the role you've been playing begins to loosen, this is a story for anyone who can't decide who they'll be in front of the mirror.
Scenes
- Even in the mirror, I can't see who I'll be next — After washing up, I look in the mirror with the edge of the towel clutched in my hand, and for a moment I can't even remember whether I want to live as I used to.
- I hear first, “What are you going to do next?” — When someone asks what comes next, I get stuck before the answer—on where to put the person I've been until now.
- I opened the drawer with a towel wrapped around me — After an evening shower, I took out an old business card, then slid it back in. My hand stayed in the drawer for a long while.
- Midlife transition changes your place before it gives you answers — During a midlife transition, as familiar roles loosen, a time comes when you ask who you are. If you set a goal in a hurry, you may end up farther away.
- You don't have to take on one thing today — In front of the mirror, write down one thing you don't have to take on today. It's okay if the answer doesn't come right away.
- Even if who I'll be next is blurred, today I can see — There are evenings when you don't have to decide who you'll be next right away. Let's look together, starting with the hand that paused in front of the mirror that day.
Stories by Onyu
- Onyu
- Even after the meeting, thoughts of my parents stay with me.
- Even on my day off, I answered someone else first.
- After the meeting, I come back and start figuring out my living expenses.
- Even after a meeting, I come home and have to explain why I need to rest.
- Just before clocking out, the clock reminds me of a request
- Gray hair reflected in the window on a rainy day
- Right before clocking out, I pause before canceling our plans
- Right before quitting time, just thinking about learning makes me check the clock.