If and when you fall in love, may you be happy with her. I don’t need to wish her anything, for she’ll be happy with you. May your sky always be clear, may your dear smile always be bright and happy, and may you be for ever blessed for that moment of bliss and happiness which you gave to another lonely and grateful heart. Isn’t such a moment sufficient for the whole of one’s life?
People tend to stick to their own size group because it’s easier on the neck. Unless they are romantically involved, in which case the size difference is sexy. It means: I am willing to go the distance for you.
I am Sita. A perfectly normal human being. Every single day, I wake up, wash my face, clean my mouth, cleanse my body, free my self from the dust and dirt of yesterday.
In the office, I sit and process meaningless words and numbers in my head, then I make my machine process them. I print them on…
I don’t know why, but I’m more inclined towards writing sad stories. Or maybe I do know. In any case, if you have some time, please read another attempt of mine at prose.
Sex and things like sex—things people pretend they regret—weren’t about a decision made in a heated moment. The decision is made when you leave the house, when you get on a plane, when you dial a number.
By Young-Ha Kim
Translated from Korean by Chi-Young Kim
She was twenty-one, with fair, beautiful skin. Even when bare, her face glowed, always radiant and dewy. This was precisely why the dermatologist’s office hired her as the receptionist. Her job was simple. All she had to do was write down the patients’ names, tell them in a friendly voice, “please take a seat until we call your name,” find their charts, and hand them over to the nurses. Her glowing, translucent skin created high expectations, encouraging the patients to pour their trust in the office, which bustled with a sudden increase in patients.
But one day, her face started to break out. The problem began with the appearance of a small pimple, growing worse and worse until it spread across her entire face. Nobody could figure out why. At first, the young doctor, who had only managed to start business with the help of bank loans, treated her lightheartedly, but later zeroed in on her with desperation. And the more he focused on her, the more her condition worsened. Red spots covered her face, making her look like a splotchy pizza from far away. The despondent doctor pulled out his hair and the nurses hated her. One spring day, she left behind a note — “I apologize to everyone. I’m sorry” — and committed suicide. The office hired a new receptionist. Her skin was so luminous that everyone’s eyes squeezed shut.
I laughed and said, Life is easy. What I meant was, Life is easy with you here, and when you leave, it will be hard again.
So that’s what it’s like being a grown-up, I thought. People can just knock you down whenever they feel like it, and no one says anything. It made me wish that I was getting younger every year, not older.