From the Judges:
“In this piece, the reader is moved through three distinct but complementary scenarios, all quintessentially Kyotoesque: the herons along the Kamo River, the Miyako Odori, and the deep-rooted pleasantries which oil the local social life. The performative aspect of the city is explored in a creative and slightly mystical way. In a sense, this is a series of three word-pictures, the last of which is an ancient umbrella shop. The description of the mossy old wooden sign will give a thrill of recognition to anyone who has glimpsed such signs around the city. They are disappearing, but some are still there to be discovered.”

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Umbrella Store

Lady Kyoto sat backstage removing her makeup and inspecting her wrinkles in the
mirror. A woman my age, she thought, can’t be made to look twenty. She leaned back and propped a dainty foot upon the vanity, kicking aside a pile of creams and powders. Koto music played from a speaker; a plastic sakura branch hung still by the door. Exposing the edges of the oshiroi on her chest, she threw her head back and rued that she had ever been made to play the part of herself. She was unaware that her wilting is a perennial bloom.

Step down from the harassed boulevard into the calm of the ankle-deep water. The river’s flow is ageless. Lovers in pairs are spaced along the riverbank with mathematical precision. On the opposite shore, lonesome herons wear expressions of widower contemplation and perch at intervals derived from the same formula. A cyclist comes too near and startles one from its meditation, prompting it to launch into flight above the river and, like a languorous boomerang, circle back to resume its vigil. A breeze soon bears them off together toward mountaintops; the cars bear themselves off to office garages and cramped side-streets.


An old shop still stands on Kawaramachi; the owner’s wife is bent double sweeping the storefront. Spying a passing acquaintance, she nods and smiles warmly. In another time, they may have approached one another in the middle of the street and taken the time to remove their coats, fold them overarm, and exchange bows. The number of appointments being made between this and that side of the street poses new hazards now. At the very least, they nod and smile. The mossy illegibility of the signboard overhead testifies to having survived the conflagration. “Kasaya”, umbrella store.

Photo Credit: Carter Hale

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Carter Hale was born in the USA in 1994. He left his native country when he was 22 and worked various jobs in different countries, such as restaurant manager in Vietnam and Taekwondo instructor in South Korea. He is a self-taught classical guitarist and an aspiring writer. He has been based in Kyoto since 2022, where he is currently delivering groceries by bicycle and performing in a guitar+shinobue duet.

Carter receives his ceramic prize (Bizen tokkuri) from the Robert Yellin Yakimoto Gallery

For the full list of this year’s competition winners, click here.
For the original competition notice (with prize details), click here.