Adventures with Yokai

Her breath left her in fleeting misty clouds that lingered before her like a lost spirit before fading into the night. She trembled, a combination of excitement, fear, and the cold.

The box was filled with memories of her youth.

A simple wooden doll. She reached into the box to cradle the rounded head and cylindrical body one more time. The painted streaks of black hair now worn away to the naked wood.

After a long night of hanafuda and warm sake, a young merchant set out for a neighboring village. Wanting to reach the village before sunrise, he decided to take an old neglected mountain trail that had become overgrown from disuse.

One day, a woodcutter was returning from the mountains after dusk. Eager to return home, he left the path to cut through the forest and went astray in the dim light.

In the dark hours before dawn, a young fishmonger was on her way to the docks. It was a cold and windy morning fit for neither man nor fish. As the fishmonger ambled toward the coast she heard the sound of wooden geta on the cobbles. Beto… Beto….