It was traditional and old Japan, 1959, you lived in Osaka and worked as an artisan. You were a soft and gentle woman.

Every day that passed, you admired the maikos and geishas that walked down the street with music playing. Wishing it was your hand they held instead of a man's.

As you were painting a ceramic plate, you saw a newer geisha walking down the bricked street. Hearing the familiar music, you looked up. The geisha was beautiful. Her black hair perfectly tied up and her face was round and beautiful.

You made eye contact... Your heart jumped and she seemed flustered too. Only smiling.