A man with two swords and butterfly wings
It was pouring this morning. "Bubbly rain" as i used to call it when i was little, because of the the bubbles that the drops form as they hit the ground. But as we opened our eyes this morning, Copo and I still decided to go on our regular Saturday morning walk. Our place is right at the bottom of an enormous hill and we usually start our walk by climbing it. That's not an easy undertaking, i tell you, but it really makes you feel like you get your exercise in just those 10 min of huffin' and puffin'. We put on our rain jackets and even our hoods, but i still felt like we were walking in one huge shower stall.
At the end of our walk we usually stop by this little pagoda with a big Japanese cast iron bell hanging in it. We do some excercises that would probably look like dancing to most of you and ring the bell for luck. Today, however, we were in for a surprise. As we approached the pagoda, something made us slow our pace. It was the sight of a man in a black leather trenchcoat holding a Japanese samurai sword in each hand, posing for a photograph. He was African-American and so was his photographer. The swords looked ligit and not like some silly prop. We stopped far enough to be able to watch freely and started stretching.
"Look, somebody forgot their butterfly wings," said Copo tilting his head in the direction of the bright purple butterfly wings laying on the grass by the pagoda.
"I have a feeling they are his," - I said.
Copo wasn't so sure.
"What do you think is going on here?" - Copo asked.
"Hmmm, maybe he is a sushi chef and wants a picture for his new restaurant web site," - said I.
Copo laughed.
But then another thought occured to me.
"I know," I said, "yes, it must be this. He is taking a picture for his personals ad."
Now Copo looked at me like i was crazy.
I shrugged and turned away from Copo just in time to notice the swordsman walk over,grab the butterfly wings and proceed to mount them on his head. Copo and I exchanged confused looks. We watched him pose for his photo, face fierce, swords at the ready, wings ablaze. We shook our heads and turned away. When we turned back to check if they were still there, they were gone. It was only the wall of rain between us and the pagoda and it really seemed like the man with two swords and butterfly wings has dissolved into the rain. Or was he there at all?
At the end of our walk we usually stop by this little pagoda with a big Japanese cast iron bell hanging in it. We do some excercises that would probably look like dancing to most of you and ring the bell for luck. Today, however, we were in for a surprise. As we approached the pagoda, something made us slow our pace. It was the sight of a man in a black leather trenchcoat holding a Japanese samurai sword in each hand, posing for a photograph. He was African-American and so was his photographer. The swords looked ligit and not like some silly prop. We stopped far enough to be able to watch freely and started stretching.
"Look, somebody forgot their butterfly wings," said Copo tilting his head in the direction of the bright purple butterfly wings laying on the grass by the pagoda.
"I have a feeling they are his," - I said.
Copo wasn't so sure.
"What do you think is going on here?" - Copo asked.
"Hmmm, maybe he is a sushi chef and wants a picture for his new restaurant web site," - said I.
Copo laughed.
But then another thought occured to me.
"I know," I said, "yes, it must be this. He is taking a picture for his personals ad."
Now Copo looked at me like i was crazy.
I shrugged and turned away from Copo just in time to notice the swordsman walk over,grab the butterfly wings and proceed to mount them on his head. Copo and I exchanged confused looks. We watched him pose for his photo, face fierce, swords at the ready, wings ablaze. We shook our heads and turned away. When we turned back to check if they were still there, they were gone. It was only the wall of rain between us and the pagoda and it really seemed like the man with two swords and butterfly wings has dissolved into the rain. Or was he there at all?
