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Updated: June 24, 2025
In Kwang Sook's school, Sang Huin had asked the children to draw verbs next to a series of words they found from his handout. When this was finished, he would read sentences with those vocabulary words like "A tall boy hits a ball in the air." "How many people are there?" "There is one person," they would say. "What does he do?" "He hits?" "What does he hit?" "He hits a ball." "Where is the ball?"
His face, bored and withdrawn, brightened slightly as he said his first English word of the visit: "Toy." Sang Huin laughed as he walked further into the room presenting the board game to the boy. The hospital room looked almost the same as an American hospital room except that there were four beds; no curtain partitions; and cushioned benches next to each bed.
"I am like this lone soul that is forever seeking, although not expecting, the one true friend that wants nothing from me other than to be with me that person who will love me for just that." She further thought, "I shouldn't have had this accident of conceiving a child this mistake of giving birth to one. However, here he is. I can't exactly return him." Sang Huin recollected where he was.
Sang Huin picked up his book bag on the spare seat near the window and sat there. It was complicated, in a sense. If he had been less temerarious perhaps to not have the support system of this whole chain family, city, state, nation, and racial identification might have posed a problem.
Then one day he was gone and soon thereafter Sang Huin lost the address book and key chain from the souvenir shop at the history museum Sung Ki had given to him. "We lose our friends," thought Sang Huin, "and then we lose the things that our friends give to us." It felt less harsh to make the idea applicable for all mankind. There had been no real reason for him to go to Seoul this time.
Abstract ideas must not have existed in his head at all. In short, he "knew " very little and the scanty but pathetic information he received might, for what he knew, have been nothing but a mendacity. Sang Huin had a great empathy; but now another friendship had just bit the dust. Had it been a month ago that Sung Ki had left him. Sung Ki: even now the name sounded musical.
When he finished dabbling in some work for his cousin at the university it was good to go someplace where he was wanted-someplace away from the campus where friendship gave him identity that an indifferent cousin cajoled or coerced into helping him failed to do. Sang Huin had the need to impress him with the material that he had written from the previous day or two.
Sung Ki began to cry. Sang Huin said, "I want to apologize. I'm sorry if I did something wrong. You wanted a girlfriend and my friendship and I made you have a boyfriend." "It's okay. I liked the feeling then." That friendship had bit the dust. Right before the bus came to a stop, he fell into a dream where there was a dust storm in Pyongyang. He ran into no one since the streets were empty.
The wisp of air and the positioning of the tongue to begin, "So, what do you want with me" was at the roof of his mouth. "Maybe we should move in together," said Saeng Seob. "Here?" asked Sang Huin. "I don't know. Somewhere." "My job here means that I have to live here alone." "You have a college education from America. You shouldn't be wasting yourself working at a convenience store.
Sang Huin tried not to stare but he could not help it. His eyes, still getting over an eye virus, began to hurt and he felt tired. He put away his composition and then put his hands over his eyelids. He went to sleep. He dreamed of a woman named Gabriele driving down a country road in Arkansas. She reached for a can of snuff that was on her dashboard.
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