Until the Tacos Are Done

Wait Along

Image generated by GPT by Iwakami Ran.

George climbed onto a westbound wagon, a pickaxe over his shoulder. There was even one person who tried to stop him. “How long are you going to stay here, working as a hired cowboy?” “Do not forsake me, oh my darin’.”

The wagon reached the town of Wichita. “A full day’s ride, and I haven’t even left Kansas yet.” “America is one hell of a big place.”

He wandered around looking for somewhere to sleep rough. Found a hot dog stand. (A little hungry anyway. Maybe I can borrow the eaves of this place for the night.) “One hot dog.” “Hey, sorry pal. Fresh out of mustard — that okay?” “No mustard, no deal.” “Then how about I grill you some tacos?” “That’ll take a bit.” “That’s fine. I’ll wait right here.” “Any chance I could sleep under your eaves tonight?” “Sure, why not.”

California dreamin’. “It never rains in Southern California.” George hummed to himself, swinging his pickaxe into the rock. A chunk of gold peered out from a crack in the stone. “This is something. The assayer’s going to lose his mind.”

That day, George’s name appeared in the papers. In the saloon, everyone gave up their seat for him. The banker took off his hat. A street in town was named George Street.

In time, George invested in a railroad, built a hotel, bought a newspaper. But by morning, the vein had thinned. By evening, his business partner had vanished. By night, only the George Street sign was left, creaking in the wind.

George opens his eyes. “Wait — where’s my pickaxe?” The DVD, still playing. High Noon — seen it a hundred times.

On the table, a flyer. IT Engineers Wanted. Location: California. Judy’s voice from the kitchen —

“Tacos are done.Wait along”

fin.

Author’s Note

This story is based on The World Inside a Pillow (枕中記), a short tale written by Shen Jiji (沈既済) during the Tang Dynasty, around the 8th century.

At an inn in the town of Handan, a young man named Lu Sheng orders a bowl of millet porridge.

While waiting for it to cook, he borrows a pillow from a traveling Taoist and falls asleep. He dreams. He passes the imperial examinations, rises to high office, reaches the peak of glory, falls from grace, rises again, and dies at a ripe old age — a full lifetime, lived inside a dream.

When he wakes, the millet the innkeeper put on to cook is still not done. It was only a dream. A very short dream. From this story came two Chinese idioms still used today in Japan: Handan Dream (邯鄲の夢) and A Dream Over Millet (黄粱一炊の夢) — both meaning the fleeting, illusory nature of fame and fortune.

This piece was written with the assistance of an AI writing program, primarily in translating the original Japanese into English.