A glimpse of a friendly ghost that looked like mushroom.

I have been struggling with writers block.

Finally finished an essay.
An essay gives birth to another essay.
Difficulties of anticipated criticism haunt my every press.
Press of every key.
Form of sentence.
Sentence form of my inner thoughts, ideas, and opinions.
Ideas and opinions that shape my level of education and personality.
Level of education and personality are computed to identify the sum of my existence.
The sum of my existence is the present day snap shot of purpose and motivation.

Is my motivation enough?

I clearly remember someone on Note say, take a walk.
Go outside.
It is therapeutic.

I did!

It's cold and a bit windy.

A little pissed off because the local vending machines in my area all ceased to serve warm drinks.
It was a strike to my heart to see all prominent blue labels light up and hear the sound of a single coin clink down, level to level, on hidden metal tracks within the human-less drink dispenser.
The machines constant electric sound hums and said to me, "choose your ideal beverage please!"

As far a Tokyo is from Hiroshima, is my ideal desire for a hot coffee.

Push the button.
The ice coldness of the metal can in my hand dampens my satisfaction of current success. Nevertheless, I am grateful to the man who stocked this vending machine with this cold coffee can.

Dam it?

Not!

I want to feel the cold air on my lips.
The mask I wear, however so briefly, conveniences only those passerby's I encounter. Being mindful to strangers.

Suddenly I hear a cute ghost's voice.
Whoooo!
Whooooo!

It's getting closer.
Whooo!
"Charing- Chari"
"Chari!"
"WHOOOO!"

All of a sudden! A mamacheri swoops around the corner.
"SHOOOSH!"
Like an ocean falcon swooping down to catch its victim.
Fast, smooth, effortlessly. 

I make it a point to never look at a woman riding a mamachari because if she is attractive, I might look uncomfortably longer.
I mean she is a mama. That's what I think.

However, it was her tiny passenger that captured my eye.
Looking like a mushroom. Helmet too big for her. Loosely attached. Boggling and bouncing.
"Whoooo!"

-STOP!-

The second she pulled her helmet up, our eyes met.
She smiled. 
Then, "Whoooo!'

In 5 seconds, the falcon flew by me.
It said to me, "good job"

I proudly nodded.
Thank you little ghost!

It's the 1st time I've ever seen a falcon sitting on the back of a mamachari wearing a helmet.
"Interesting!"
All well. I'm sure she will fly in the future.