Transmigrant - Chapter 13
Copyright © 2024 Stephen B. Anthony
In the forge of dawn, the world is cast,
Each hour a thread in the tapestry vast.
Time’s river sweeps, unceasing and wide,
Yet in our hands, the power to guide.
We are the weavers, bold and bright,
Crafting destinies in the living light.
With every choice, we shape the clay,
Molding legends from the fleeting day.
—Takeshi Hoshi, Bliss
CHAPTER 13
Ray looked over the collection of eclectic items that Ichiro had kept in his stateroom on the Shinobi. Each reflected Ichiro’s cultural heritage. On a low table, he kept a miniature juniper tree maintained in the bonsai fashion and a small tea set complete with a kettle and cups. In the center of the table was an old beat-up tin containing different loose tea leaves. A photo album containing pictures of his family was in a drawer in his desk, along with a book of Japanese poetry. A miniature sailboat sat on a shelf along one wall. On a second wall was a series of Japanese paintings on canvas that made Ray think of spring on Tellarius.