チョコを作ったり食ったりした
At a post office on a small island, she stands at a special counter that opens only on February 14th every year. Though she's a temporary employee, she doesn't wear a name tag. The counter simply reads "Receptionist." The townspeople know this, and when they call her, they always say, "Today's Person." "Today's Person, please take this, please." On this day, the items handed to her aren't envelopes or postcards. They're red paper bags, silver cans, or clear boxes. Even without looking, they know what's inside. She takes it. Checks the weight. She pulls out a small black box from under the counter. Inside are playing cards. They're neither new nor old. She draws one. That's her job. The first person to arrive that morning is a middle-school girl. Her hair is messy from bedtime. "...This is for you, senpai." Inside the paper bag are homemade cookies. Only one star-shaped object is visible. The receptionist looks at the card she'd drawn. "It's three." "...Three?" "Let me count before I give it to you. I'll count to three, wait a moment, and then..." The girl was confused, but did as she was told. "One, two, three." She remained silent. "Next, step back a little." The girl took one step, then two, then three. Holding the paper bag became more natural. "...I guess it's okay." The girl chuckled softly and walked away. Next was a man in a suit. He smelled a little strong of perfume. "For my wife...no, for my ex-wife." He lowered his eyes as he handed her the designer paper bag. She looked at the card. "Queen, right?" "Does it mean anything?" "It just means you don't have to decide today." The man thought for a moment, then picked up the paper bag again. "...Just giving it to you, right?" "Okay." The man left without saying anything more. People continued to arrive steadily, even after noon. "It's my true love." "It's a token of my gratitude." "It's for myself." She looked at the card. Sometimes she added a comment, sometimes she said nothing. "Wait a little while." "Halve it." "There's no need to rush today." Just that change can make a difference in the weight of some people's belongings. For others, it doesn't. The last customer arrived in the evening. It was a young man. He was carrying nothing. "...I have nothing to give you." She nodded. "That's fine." She drew a card. "It's a jack." "Looks weak." "It depends on the role." The young man laughed a little. "What should I do?" She thought for a moment before saying. "Listen carefully to the stories of those who have nothing to give." The young man tilted his head. She continued. "We don't have enough people to do that today." "...That's all?" "Yes." "Listen?" "'How do you feel right now?'" The young man looked troubled. "They'll probably dislike you." "Probably." After a while, the young man nodded. "...I'm going." "Be careful." The young man left empty-handed. His back was straighter than when he arrived. The shutters closed. Silence returned to the island post office. As she left, she drew a deck of cards for herself. For some reason, the card that came up was the same every year. "Island Joker" Text: Sanada

My aunt also bought some Canadian souvenirs so we gave them out.

天才画家が人生で初めてパスタを作ります

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画家が描いた絵を本人の前でバラバラにしてみた

