The woman with the cold cock.

    The woman with the cold cock. 

If the train had been a little bit more crowded, we wouldn't have met her. Unless you call it an encounter when two people just get on the same train, they would never have met. I think about it. I wonder if, when boarding a crowded train, I push other people around in an unjustified way, in a very familiar way. I wonder if I was staggering, losing my footing, slouching, and behaving selfishly without realising it. I wondered if I was pushing others more than they were pushing me.
In any case, I had no exaggerated malice. I didn't have any transparent desires. I found myself a metre further back from the entrance, with the back of a balding man's head in front of me, and sticky, greasy skin beneath a thin stream of hair. I might have pulled my face back somewhat forcefully just to avoid kissing it. Just before the train doors closed, I was pushed diagonally across the back and my hips pulled back too. At that moment, I felt something cold squishing against my buttocks.
It was similar to the feeling of an oden chikuwabu pressed against my buttocks after being chilled in the fridge for two hours. I thought, "Oh, he's ruined my trousers", with the haste of assuming someone's legs smelled of armpit odour before I'd even sniffed them. My trousers were already wet and would be badly stained, I thought. Along with the rocking of the train, it began to take on a strange elasticity. It felt as if it had the warmth of a living thing, yet it had a spring in it that pushed back when pushed. The feeling seemed like a ridiculous joke. No one gets on a crowded train with a bare chikuwa. I thought, calmly, that it was a leather bag or something, and that I had just felt something particularly odd, but not particularly odd, on my own.
But gradually the shape became clearer. The cold thing pressed against the cheeks of my buttocks must have been something like a chikuwa, standing at a near-vertical angle. What made it different from a conventional phallic object was the fact that it had been stretched senselessly all morning, and yet it was clearly cold. Not just not warm, but cold enough to take the heat from its surroundings. It was going to make my bottom cold and I was going to get diarrhoea.
For our part, we were also failing to seize the opportunity for a bit of irritation. If it was a big, cold phallic cock, I was in the mood to see its owner's face. Of course, I don't have a propensity to be particularly interested in other people's cocks. I still wasn't sure it was phallic, and if it wasn't, I wanted to know what it was. I was tempted to put my hand around my own buttocks and touch the area. No matter how cold it was, if it was a phallic erection there, this would be a brave move. I had never had the experience of holding another person's erect manhood in a crowded train before. Just like the first time I donated blood, I nervously put my hands around my hips. I had to proceed slowly through a long, long diversions. There were many obstacles on the way and I carefully avoided them. Such careful movements might have looked distinctly funny to other people's eyes. A woman beside me looked blatantly into my face. It was a very sharp look, half warning, half reproach.
Euclid, in his Optics, gives a general explanation of the big question of why objects are visible to the eye. First of all, rays of light called visual rays emanate from the human eye. When the visual ray hits an object, the object is visible. ...... In that sense, my face was hit by the visual rays fired from her eyes. She was a woman with large ear holes, and ordinary earplugs did not seem to be of any use at all. The roughness of her make-up was so obvious that it was impossible to distinguish exactly whether she was young or old at this close proximity. It was my first experience of being stared at by a woman with large ear holes. I stopped moving and gripped my left hand, which was advancing towards my buttocks.
　I wondered if I was already in trouble. If my buttocks were wet, that would be trouble, and if my left hand, which I had dispatched to see if my buttocks were wet, had stroked some part of the neighbouring woman's body, I would no longer be involved. I would have got her into trouble. The woman with the big ear holes kept staring at me until the train arrived at the station. When the train arrived at the station and passengers started to get off, I could finally see the left half of her face. Compared to that part of her face, which had been out of my line of sight for so long, the right half, which was staring at me, was as fake as gingerbread. A thought startled me almost audibly. Her right eye kept looking to the right. Pretending to obey the station's announcement to watch your step, I walked with my face down, feeling uncomfortable. Because of this turn of events, I had forgotten all about the man. I had no chance to remember, but after I did, I realised that I had clearly remembered the incident, which is something that human beings must have an infinite number of outside events. I thought this a few days later on a crowded train, with something cold, soft and strong pressed against my buttocks. The second time was no coincidence. Such a short phrase popped into my head like an unauthorised quote. I was trying to feel the distorted sexuality, or at least selfishness, of that cold phallic thing. Of course, mathematically, any number of identical experiences can be coincidental. That's what I mean by calm. Today I was neither calm nor pleasant. I was grumpy to the extent that I had been feeling down since this morning, not because of any particular event, but because of a gloomy and unpleasant dream, the contents of which I can't remember. I was so thin-skinned and grumpy that it was obvious that if I took it out on anyone, I would regret it later.
I could live with myself by taking the same train every morning, except on the Sabbath. I pushed other people in front of me into the crowded train, and I myself was pushed from behind by someone else on my way to the office.
　I think about it. I wonder if I push others more than they push me. I stepped on someone's foot, someone stepped on my foot, I smelled someone's stinky breath, I blew my stinky breath on someone, I was standing in a crowded train.
I still did not see the man's face. Euclid says this is because the visual rays emitted from my eyes never reached the man's face. If there is no contact, there is no action. But there was no doubt that the man's cold manhood was in contact with my buttocks, even through a thin piece of cloth. The man is probably fully aware of this. He must have noticed that I was surprised by the coldness of his manhood. And yet he doesn't speak to me. No wonder. We have no words to exchange now. Am I meeting this man now?
I twist my head as far as I can and try to turn around. People did not indulge me enough to turn my whole body around. When I couldn't turn my head, I pulled my eyeballs to the edge as far as they would go. But I still couldn't look directly behind me. My mouth opened and my tongue licked my lips. It would have been like a vulgar prank to mock someone. The man gave a light cough. It sounded more like a common habitual coughing, which cannot be called a habit, than a physiological phenomenon. And I was surprised at how unexpectedly thin the sound was. I began to think about the possibility that the cold phallic man was actually a young woman. I put my head back, closed my mouth and coughed one more time. It was a coughing sound, after which I noticed the presence of phlegm. Then, in the air I inhaled through my nose, I smelled the discreet scent of cologne. It was similar to the fashionable scents that abound in the city at night. The scent of cologne was rising up from right behind me, mixed in with the smell of various breakfast foods, cigarettes left in ashtrays and Lee's candy that someone was licking. I focused my attention on her shoulder blades, trying to make out the fullness of her breasts if I could. But the unevenness of different sized human bodies did not combine so skilfully. Only her bizarre lower body was still pressing against my buttocks. She strained her lower body as the train rocked. To keep her body vertical, my buttocks were also pushed apart from side to side. We gradually overlapped deeper and deeper. Even when someone lifted a load from in front of her chest onto the rack and there was a small gap in front and behind us, we were unlikely to separate any time soon. We felt we were being severely humiliated. It was embarrassing to be even more passive in this incomprehensible situation. No matter how cold and phallic the other woman was, there seemed to be no reason for my ass to accept it. I should just twist violently and get away from the woman.
Before I could have such a fit, the train reached its destination. The woman peeled off spontaneously and when I turned around she was already behind me. I followed her back with my eyes up the stairs to the ticket gate. If I could, I would have passed her, turned around and seen her face. I wanted to know what kind of woman could have such a cold phallic erection. The woman was walking in front of me, her package dangling from her hand and humming a tune. The moment I saw the woman's package, I stopped the chase. In her cold, cock-cold hands was a frozen chikuwabu in a clear plastic bag.
　Had I met her?

                                                      End

References.

Heibonsha Shizen Sosho 4: Yume ka kagaku ka delusion ka - Ancient Medieval Views of Nature" by Yasuo Ichiba, Heibonsha, 1987.

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