a bud

“Brace yourself.”

Grandmother pulled and tightened the obi just above my hip. The motion jerked me, but I was able to hold back.

“If it’s not tight enough, the whole thing will fall apart.”

She made me turn around, scrutinizing everything.

The smoke from the mosquito coil rolled upwards and swayed with the evening breeze. The lazy sound of the wind chime echoed.

My back and chest, which had the most layers of yukata kimono, were damp, and pearls of sweat appeared on my forehead.

“Done. Can you walk?”

She led me to the mirror. I shuffled.

The white cotton kimono had purple flowers on it and was held with a pink obi in the middle. My bob cut head was staring at me.

“Is that me?”

“Yes. It is you.”

“I look like a girl.”

“You are a girl,” grandmother laughed.

We went out into the summer dusk, lanterns in our hands.

I, a tomboy, was a bit quiet that night.


(162 words)

photo prompt by Sunday Photo Fiction

For Sunday Photo Fiction – August 14th 2016 and The Daily Post’s daily prompt, Confused

27 thoughts on “a bud

  1. This is very interesting. Grandma dresses her up like “a girl.” Until then she seems to have run around like a Tom-boy. Now she experiences the pain of beauty, of being female. Well written 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I remember we had an exchange student from Japan when I was young. At a meeting with all the families who took part in this venture,they dressed the girls in the kimonos their guests had brought for them. It was an enlightening experience. I had that kimono for years. It was beautiful.

    Liked by 1 person

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