jump in the seat up and down

As the summer holidays began in Japan, an old vintage bus has been running for sightseeing spots in the area I moved in. Its one-day pass is $3 and I tried it for the first time the other day. What appeared at the bus stop was a cool hooded bus with the ‘50s or ‘60s style. A conductor was aboard, who collected money for the ticket and announced each stop. The bus’s interior remained of its old one and the unfamiliar cab and the dashboard excited me immensely. But once it got going, it jolted violently for old suspension and made my body jump in the seat up and down, right and left, although it was running on asphalt. The heat was also unbearable since the bus wasn’t equipped with air conditioning. I glimpsed how hard traveling was in the past. While I appreciated authenticity of the bus, I was tired from the uncomfortable ride. Maybe there are some kinds of vehicles that are suitable not to be gotten in, but to be looked at, like this bus or a Formula One car. Watching the quaint bus going through my new neighborhood, I couldn’t help feeling a little sad because it matched well with the town, which meant my new town looked as old as the bus itself…

die from a stroke

When I left for Costco yesterday, it started raining slightly. I thought
 how unlucky I was. I could have returned home but I didn’t want to 
waste my time to have prepared for going out and went on. By the time I
got off the bus to walk to Costco for the rest of the way, it had  
stopped raining. There seemed a big downpour during my bus ride. I may 
have been lucky after all. On my way home, I missed the bus. I thought  
how unlucky I was, again. But by taking the next bus, my subsequent  
connections for the train and the buss went incredibly smoothly. I may  
have been lucky again. When I went to bed that night, I felt numb in my
left arm and I feared that I would die from a stroke during my sleep.  
Thinking how unlucky I was, I fell asleep…

from Tumblr https://hidemiwoods.tumblr.com/post/185990047872

mountain road 6/26

There is a lake a few miles away from my new apartment and I decided to go there for the first time. The local bus to the lake was surprisingly old-fashioned and worn-out. It jolted along a mountain road, ascending higher and higher. The lake lay at the foot of the mountain, surrounded by the fresh green woods. Although I had expected it to be a popular recreation place for locals, it was quite lonely and quiet with only a couple of small spots to eat and shop. One of them was an Italian restaurant and I had an expensive lunch there as a sole customer. The directory showed that there was a walk around the lake and I tried it. It got steeper and rougher as I walked on, as if I was climbing a mountain. The walk looked exactly like the one in my recurring nightmare in which I walked along an ever-steepening path and ended up tumbling down the slope every time. I crawled along the walk on all fours so as not to tumble down. Fighting off a fear of heights, I finally got to a suspension bridge over the lake, and the view of the lake from there was breathtaking. On my way home, I mistook the road for the bus stop, and walked all the way home. It took 90 minutes and I was dead on my feet…