Osamu Dazai. waiting (№ 138941)

Who am I waiting for? After all, I don't even have any particular plan. Only one smoke is before my eyes. But I'm stubbornly waiting for. After the war started I was making the purchase, come every day to this station, sit on the same cold bench and wait. Someone laughing, sometimes starts talking to me, but I only shivers run through the skin. I feel unbearably awkward and want to say: "You are the man whom I wait." In this case, whom I'm expecting? Husband? No, not his... Lover? Yes no; also not his Friend? I don't need a friend... Money? Hardly... Ghost Man? Oh, just scary!..
I want to meet something more peaceful, enlightened and beautiful. What would it be? I don't know... for Example, something similar to a spring. No, not that... May be, may green leaves or clean water, rippling across a wheat field? No, probably neither. But I continue to expect. I'm waiting for, so much so that my soul is overwhelmed with a pleasant feeling. Before my eyes the crowd of rushing people. But no, none of them are anybody I needed.