Father – in the morning
I had only known my father at home. In the morning, he’d get up 2 hours after my mother, who had already done laundry, mopping, cooking breakfast, and packing bento by then. He’d come into the dining room in suteteko (underwear leggings for men) and undershirt, with unruly hair and stubble beard, and stinking of alcohol. He’d tell my mother to bring him a bowl of rice and miso soup, and when finished eating, a cup of tea. After breakfast, he’d wash and shave, then put a little bit of pomade on hair to part his hair neatly to seven to three. Once he donned on his dark suits and knot a tie, his face changed to stern and stoic, which were not the personalities I knew of my father.
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