The Bottle Of Bones
Note : #344
from “This must be the place I waited years to leave”.
At dusk at the end of August, at the outdoor public swimming pool, where the number of visitors has dwindled, I am lying on a deck chair reading the paperback version of ``Moby Dick.'' This is a text for my siblings from my mother, who is passionate about English education. The cold autumn breeze slides down onto my tanned, oily skin. Feeling the end of summer vacation, I felt a little sad, so I jumped into the water, where the ripples of the lighting were shaking. In water, impurities are blocked and I can become pure. And I think.
To be a swimmer like Don Schollander and go to the Olympics, and a writer like Truman Capote. This is the dream of an innocent junior high school student in 1969.
瓶の骨
補足 : #344
“僕がずっと離れたかった場所”より
八月の終わりの夕暮れ時、すっかり入場者も少なくなった屋外の市民プールで、僕はデッキチェアーに寝そべってペーパーバックの“白鯨"を読んでいる。英語教育に熱心な母さんからの僕たち兄弟へのテキストだ。真っ黒に日焼けした油膜の肌に冷たい秋風が滑り落ちる。僕は夏休みの終わりを感じて何だか寂しくなり、照明灯の波紋が揺らぐ水面の中に飛び込んだ。水中では不純なものが遮断されて純になれる。そして僕は思う。