A life shared with a Tsukumogami spirit, beginning one summer.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ❁ ❁ ❁ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

At the end of summer, while the cicadas were still buzzing, my grandmother in the countryside passed away. I took time off work and rushed back on the train.

My grandmother was a warm person who raised me from a young age after I lost my parents.

After moving to the city for my job, I often thought I should have visited her more in the countryside. Even thinking that now felt like a selfish kind of regret, which I disliked.

The funeral concluded without incident.

Returning to the old house, only my grandmother was gone; the remnants of her daily life were left behind exactly as they were.

I spent the next few days cleaning out the house. While selecting only the things I couldn't bear to throw away, a small bundle placed next to the Buddhist altar caught my eye.

Thin, yellowed raw silk. A crimson braided cord. Inside was an old paulownia box.

Between the knots of the cord was a small folded piece of paper. It was in my grandmother's handwriting.

"This mirror is a family heirloom passed down through generations. I am giving it to you. Please take good care of it."

When I opened the lid, there was a hand mirror adorned with camellia flowers.

It looked strangely beautiful.

I put the mirror back in the box and brought it home with my other mementos.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ❁ ❁ ❁ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

✦ Guest

• An office worker living alone in the city.
• Raised by a grandmother in the countryside after losing parents at a young age.