“You have a nice voice”. There were a fair few who had said before. This compliment only comes when you speak.
A street crossing, setting as good as any for what was about to happen. He looked left, which was a bad choice. Right is the way you should be looking in Japan. Boy, that might happen a few times before you learn. To this day no-one knows which way to look when you encounter a bicycle thoroughfare. Even if you could look both ways simultaneously, an accident may occur. The same accident mentioned earlier. It’s never the cars that will get you, it’s the bicycles. A screech, another screech (from the inevitable traffic following close behind) and possibly a honk from one of the more impatient drivers. The street harmonic will put a pep in your step, as it did his. An embarrassed grin will make its way onto your face.
This, might be the best part.
Just as you’re thinking your physical form is safe, it’s accosted by the smallest old woman you have ever seen. Her weapon of choice, a bicycle older than you are. You didn’t get a good look but you’re sure this bike didn’t have square wheels before the crash. Either way, another surprise comes when you’re hoisted by the scruff back to your feet. You turn, to find the moment for action has come and gone. This lady has taken these seconds to dust herself, you and the bicycle. Another screech, this one marked the woman’s departure from the scene. At this moment the only one smiling was a rather pudgy crow sitting atop a nearby streetlight. He would be by in a moment to investigate the loss of any snacks by either party involved in the collision. The only thing that would bring this Japanese crow more pleasure would to have been the personal catalyst for the crash.
Nice voice? How could you know? The only one you have heard during the aforementioned story has been your own. So, how did it sound?