Читать книгу Post Office on the Tokaido - Greta Gorsuch - Страница 4

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Chapter One

Siya was up early. She stood in the cold morning light of her apartment. The floor was cold. She hadn’t unpacked her warm slippers yet. Looking into the dusty mirror, she saw her own brown face. Her huge black eyes were round. She looked like a young deer. Like she could run fast if she wanted to. Her long, long black hair was pulled back. She wore little makeup. She was careful about that. This was her first day at her new job. Siya wanted to look hardworking, not like she was going on a date.

Still looking into the mirror, she pulled on her cheap dark blue uniform jacket. It had a pin with her name on it: Fujino Siya. And just above her name was the symbol of the Japanese postal service. The Japan Post, to be exact. What the Japanese themselves called Nippon Yusei Kosha, or sometimes just yubin kyoku. Everyone knew what the Japanese postal service symbol looked like. It was red with two bars, one on top of the other, from left to right. They were placed on top of another red bar, straight up and down. You could see it everywhere in Japan. Every bright red postbox on every city street and every village road had the symbol.

And Siya had a job at one. True, it was only a two-month job. But it was at a real post office in Shizuoka City. Siya wasn’t from Shizuoka City. She grew up in Fukuoka, far away in southern Japan. So her job was new, and she was new to Shizuoka City. She had come just the day before and moved her one or two boxes into a small, old apartment. Her father found it for her from Fukuoka. “It’s cheap,” he said. “And my university friend knows the owner.”

And now it was time for Siya to go to work. She took a breath and left the apartment.

Post Office on the Tokaido

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