tamiko woodland

Meet a 100 percent girl

One fine April morning, I passed a 100 percent girl in the back streets of Harajuku. To put it bluntly, the girl was not very pretty, not attractive, not very well dressed, the hair at the back of the head clinging to the traces of sleep. I'm not old either -- I should be nearly thirty. Strictly speaking, I'm afraid it's hard to call it a girl. However, from 50 meters away, I can see at a glance: to me, she is 100 percent a girl. From the moment I saw her, my chest trembled like a sound, and my mouth rustled like dry desert.