nozomi-neko

11/24/08 Meiji    I padded silently through the house to our bedroom.  I could see my husband’s silhouette through the thin paper on the sliding door.  Kneeling, I opened it and peered inside.  His bag was packed and he was dressed for travel.  His formal clothes were pressed and clean – not like the dirty jimbe he wore in the fields or the sweat stained training outfit he used for practice at the dojo.  He looked fresh and emanated a quiet but intense energy.  The other samurai would be here for him soon.  He slid his sword into his hakama belt before looking at me.  I stood and entered the room.  “Kenji-sama, are you leavi