On Tuesday I swallowed my first bug while biking. It was like "A Bug's Life," when the walking stick is flying via one of his friends (I forget what he was doing - something like making airplane sounds or something) and then starts choking. I wasn't flying, but I imagine it looked similarly elegant.
A gaijin, skin glistening and shirt dark with the satisfaction of hard work, bleary-eyes from the sunlight and from pedaling uphill. She rolls across the bridge, wind combing softly over her helmet. The seat is low, and makes her more aerodynamic as she sticks out her elbows. With the casual grace of a dumptruck, she parts her lips to gasp for air. But lo, at the same moment, our heroine passes through a well-placed cloud of what have been assumed to be gnats. Both parties are surprised, shocked, and the intruder holds her breath too late.
The deed is done. Imabari is one gnat less, and one slightly disgusted but no less determined missionary more. Rest in peace, harmless disgusting gnat. Rest in peace.
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