The Lakeside
I awoke on the shore of Lake Biwa this morning with sand under my nails and in my mouth. I rolled over to look up and could barely open my eyes--they felt glazed shut. This time, I made out the figure of a fisherman with awful breath who must have spotted me from the nearby dock and come over to check and see if I was alive. Waving my hands around, I immediately started in with the "I'm not dead, I'm not dead," and noticed he was having trouble understanding me. While straining to peer over the bags sagging from my eyes, I swallowed the sand stuck on the roof of my mouth and I gargled "looks like the earlier bird got the worm," looking up at him and smiling. I swallowed more sand and trailed off, "the undead, white worm"--I started looking around. He finally let go of my shoulder and stood there huddled, hands on knees, with hollow eyes that stared straight through me warning me that he was going to try to speak some English. Instinctively, I tried to stop this by offering him another smile and yelling, slowly enough for him to understand, "I'm OKAY!! OH--KAY, okay?! Ya know? Like, GOOOOO AWAY, now. GO FISH!! FISH!!!!" Oh, he knew this word! "Yes.....fish? Fish," he repeated twice with a smile, and his breath was beginning to offend, but it was his English that was getting the best of me when I started throwing angry handfuls of sand at him. He kept smiling and just started backing away, bowing. I threw receipts I'd stingily collected the night before, along with some lint and one-yen coins, and he was gone. I stood up, and fell back down on my ass with tears oozing from the corners of my eyes. I knew I'd have to get my jacket dry-cleaned.
Then it dawns on me and, I PANIC, "no, no, no, no, you little SHIT!!" I scramble to find a clock somewhere nearby, and notice I have a watch on--less than two hours until work!! I begin insulting myself with profane, non-sensical phrases, like "stupid cocker bitch" and "bitch-kickin' cunt" as I jump to my feet and book it to the parking lot, but realize I have no direction since I have no idea what side of the lake I'm on--and then, I recall that I don't have a job. I stop running.
When I reach the parking lot, still trying to catch my breath, I hop over a concrete barrier and crawl underneath a grey Corolla--the warmth of the blacktop mixed with a momentary sense of relief puts me back to sleep.