Post by Platinum on Aug 11, 2009 15:52:31 GMT -8
Sometimes we're on a collision course, and we just don't know it. Whether it's by accident or by design, there's not a thing we can do about it. A woman in Tokyo was on her way to go shopping, but she had forgotten her purse - went back to get it. When she had gotten her purse, the phone had rung, so she'd stopped to answer it; talked for a couple of minutes. While the woman was on the phone, Takara was rehearsing for a performance at the Tokyo Dance Studio. And while she was rehearsing, the woman, off the phone now, had gone outside to get a taxi.
Now a taxi driver had dropped off a fare earlier and had stopped to get a cup of coffee. And all the while, Takara was rehearsing. And this cab driver, who dropped off the earlier fare; who'd stopped to get the cup of coffee, had picked up the lady who was going to shopping, and had missed getting an earlier cab. The taxi had to stop for a man crossing the street, who had left for work five minutes later than he normally did, because he forgot to set off his alarm. While that man, late for work, was crossing the street, Takara had finished rehearsing, and was taking a shower. And while Takara was showering, the taxi was waiting outside a boutique for the woman to pick up a package, which hadn't been wrapped yet, because the girl who was supposed to wrap it had broken up with her boyfriend the night before, and forgot.
When the package was wrapped, the woman, who was back in the cab, was blocked by a delivery truck, all the while Takara was getting dressed. The delivery truck pulled away and the taxi was able to move, while Takara, the last to be dressed, waited for one of her friends, who had broken a shoelace. While the taxi was stopped, waiting for a traffic light, Takara and her friend came out the back of the theater. And if only one thing had happened differently: if that shoelace hadn't broken; or that delivery truck had moved moments earlier; or that package had been wrapped and ready, because the girl hadn't broken up with her boyfriend; or that man had set his alarm and got up five minutes earlier; or that taxi driver hadn't stopped for a cup of coffee; or that woman had remembered her purse, and got into an earlier cab, Takara and her friend would've crossed the street, and the taxi would've driven by. But life being what it is - a series of intersecting lives and incidents, out of anyone's control - that taxi did not go by, and that driver was momentarily distracted, and that taxi hit Takara, and her leg was crushed.
Takara looked up in the hospital, her leg suspended in the air. It hurt so much. All of this. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, the words of the nurse echoing through her mind.
"With time and therapy you'll be able to walk again, but you'll never dance"
Tears stung her eyes. Oh, she felt selfish but dancing was the only thing that made her feel normal, not crazy or insane.
And she would never dance again.
She stared strait again. Never dancing... she had always danced. Always. Never dancing again? She had never concidered it.
But now it was here. She would stop dancing.
She knew that what she did was so special and few people did it that she would have to quit pretty soon anyway. Few dancers lasted very long.
"Ms. Arata... ? You have a vistor." A nurse said. Takara didn't say anything, but the nurse let him anyways.
Now a taxi driver had dropped off a fare earlier and had stopped to get a cup of coffee. And all the while, Takara was rehearsing. And this cab driver, who dropped off the earlier fare; who'd stopped to get the cup of coffee, had picked up the lady who was going to shopping, and had missed getting an earlier cab. The taxi had to stop for a man crossing the street, who had left for work five minutes later than he normally did, because he forgot to set off his alarm. While that man, late for work, was crossing the street, Takara had finished rehearsing, and was taking a shower. And while Takara was showering, the taxi was waiting outside a boutique for the woman to pick up a package, which hadn't been wrapped yet, because the girl who was supposed to wrap it had broken up with her boyfriend the night before, and forgot.
When the package was wrapped, the woman, who was back in the cab, was blocked by a delivery truck, all the while Takara was getting dressed. The delivery truck pulled away and the taxi was able to move, while Takara, the last to be dressed, waited for one of her friends, who had broken a shoelace. While the taxi was stopped, waiting for a traffic light, Takara and her friend came out the back of the theater. And if only one thing had happened differently: if that shoelace hadn't broken; or that delivery truck had moved moments earlier; or that package had been wrapped and ready, because the girl hadn't broken up with her boyfriend; or that man had set his alarm and got up five minutes earlier; or that taxi driver hadn't stopped for a cup of coffee; or that woman had remembered her purse, and got into an earlier cab, Takara and her friend would've crossed the street, and the taxi would've driven by. But life being what it is - a series of intersecting lives and incidents, out of anyone's control - that taxi did not go by, and that driver was momentarily distracted, and that taxi hit Takara, and her leg was crushed.
Takara looked up in the hospital, her leg suspended in the air. It hurt so much. All of this. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, the words of the nurse echoing through her mind.
"With time and therapy you'll be able to walk again, but you'll never dance"
Tears stung her eyes. Oh, she felt selfish but dancing was the only thing that made her feel normal, not crazy or insane.
And she would never dance again.
She stared strait again. Never dancing... she had always danced. Always. Never dancing again? She had never concidered it.
But now it was here. She would stop dancing.
She knew that what she did was so special and few people did it that she would have to quit pretty soon anyway. Few dancers lasted very long.
"Ms. Arata... ? You have a vistor." A nurse said. Takara didn't say anything, but the nurse let him anyways.
