PINWHEELS AND SPIDER LILIES
The first time the mountain witch appeared, Akito was unprepared. He was scrubbing the moss and lichen off a leaning gravestone. Concentrating so intently, he didn’t notice that the prickly tawashi clenched in his hand was piercing his skin. That is, he didn’t notice until he emptied a bucket over the newly scoured slab and saw the water run red.
Akito forced himself to smile. The pain was almost enough to piss him off again. But not today. He dropped the scrub brush and filled his lungs with autumn air. Sweet olive trees. Acorns. The candy-like smell of birch and discarded talismans smoldering in the temple’s burn barrel.
Akito’s mantra for the past eighteen hours had been “Get rid of the rage and everything will be all right again.” He finally understood it
