The yellow “1” was not there. At
first, I thought that the afternoon sunlight was deceiving my eyes. I made a
small shade above my screen and looked at it once more. My eyesight was
completely fine; Sue had read my message, and still did not respond. Frantically,
I scrolled up; I must have sent something terrible, maybe even a picture of my
penis. It turned out to be something worse. I had been begging Sue to love me,
to hold me tight until my body stopped trembling. But she refused to do so. Her
reply was solid and cold. “I know that you are a person with many positive
aspects. Why don’t you try to get a job? Even a part-time one is fine. Trying
to earn money through luck is the most foolish and un-economical thing to do.”
I knew perfectly that Sue was right. She was simply trying to help me; she
wanted me to climb out of my abyss. But she would never hold my hand and pull
me out of there. The reason was simple: My abyss was too dangerous and filthy
to put her hand in.
I never thought about Sue’s naked body. The idea of it
brought tremendous guilt to me. Instead, I thought about her arms closing
around me, her warm bosom quelling my palpitating heart. But it was nothing but
a daydream. How would Sue, who never left her desk during the dead-week, who
rarely drank and never smoked, see the invisible friends that had been
permeating into my heart and my brain? Again, Sue’s didactic remark pierced my
chest, making me wince. I could withstand no more. With a shaking hand, I
probed through my pocket. I found a 5,000-won bill and a 500-won coin, along
with a pack of Marlboro with three cigarettes left. I lit one of my cigarettes
and inhaled deeply, in turn excreting a small cloud. I could not smoke even
half of the cigarette. Smoking did not help at all; my heart started to beat
even faster. After I threw the stub on the ground, I hastily headed for the
closest convenience store. Within the periphery of my vision, I could catch a
glimpse of a young boy picking up the still-smoldering remainder of my
cigarette and taking it to his lips.
As soon as I entered the store, I asked for a
scratch-off; it costed 1,000 won each. I handed my 5,000-won bill to the clerk.
The pretty-looking clerk – perhaps in her mid-thirties – ripped off one ticket
from a bundle and gave it to me with four 1,000-won notes. Using my 500-won
coin, I scratched the stiff piece of paper. Nothing – not even 1,000 won. I
felt a bead of perspiration rolling down past my left eyebrow. As if drawn by
some diabolic power, I went back to the counter and asked for one more
scratch-off. It was, like the previous one, a failure. Now, I only had 3,000
won left; I could not even buy a pack of cigarettes for tomorrow. With the same
fiendish force dragging me, I ran to the counter for the third time. I was
panting violently. The clerk glanced at me with a weird look. I stuck out all
of my paper-money, demanding for three tickets. Before the clerk took them, my
eyes met the eyes of three identical men with long beards. They were gazing me
from each 1,000-won bill. Their pupils mocked at me, but not without a trace of
sympathy.
After I scratched all of the three cards, I found that
only one of them was a winning-ticket. The prize was 1,000 won. When I brought
the ticket to the counter, the clerk tried to give me one more scratch-off in
the place of the prize. “That’s what most people do,” she said. I declined; I
told her that I wanted to stop the game and get the 1,000 won. “You are a smart
guy,” the clerk said with a smile. I neatly folded my new 1,000-won note and
put it in my right pocket. The bell hanging on the glass door rattled as I left
the store. When I was sure that no one was looking, I carefully pulled out the
prize-note and unfolded it. I expected to see the bearded man staring at me.
But he was not there; Sue was there instead. Unlike the scornful man, she
smiled at me. “Do you want to hold my hand? You seem kind of uneasy,” she
offered. I did as she told. Her hand was warm, but not damp. Sue came closer to
me, still holding my hand tight. I leaned on her shoulder, recognizing the
scent of her lustrous hair. Then, I nuzzled my face against her bosom; I felt a
stream of hot liquid running down my cheek. I did not wipe it, though. Sue’s
cotton t-shirt absorbed my tears completely.
Suddenly, I felt a drop of fluid running into my
mouth. It tasted salty. I looked down at the 1,000-won note in my hand. I was
glad that my eyes were blurred, and I did not have to see the old man drawn on
the front side of the bill. Holding the prize-money, along with my last coin
with a crane inscribed on it, I headed for another convenience store. Maybe
this time, Sue would hold me tight in her bed, underneath her blanket. Maybe
this time, she would embrace me as if to crush all of my bones – waiting calmly
until I fell asleep.
A Love Story
A Love Story
S. J. Bae (07/29/2020)
The yellow “1” was not there. At first, I thought that the afternoon sunlight was deceiving my eyes. I made a small shade above my screen and looked at it once more. My eyesight was completely fine; Sue had read my message, and still did not respond. Frantically, I scrolled up; I must have sent something terrible, maybe even a picture of my penis. It turned out to be something worse. I had been begging Sue to love me, to hold me tight until my body stopped trembling. But she refused to do so. Her reply was solid and cold. “I know that you are a person with many positive aspects. Why don’t you try to get a job? Even a part-time one is fine. Trying to earn money through luck is the most foolish and un-economical thing to do.” I knew perfectly that Sue was right. She was simply trying to help me; she wanted me to climb out of my abyss. But she would never hold my hand and pull me out of there. The reason was simple: My abyss was too dangerous and filthy to put her hand in.
I never thought about Sue’s naked body. The idea of it brought tremendous guilt to me. Instead, I thought about her arms closing around me, her warm bosom quelling my palpitating heart. But it was nothing but a daydream. How would Sue, who never left her desk during the dead-week, who rarely drank and never smoked, see the invisible friends that had been permeating into my heart and my brain? Again, Sue’s didactic remark pierced my chest, making me wince. I could withstand no more. With a shaking hand, I probed through my pocket. I found a 5,000-won bill and a 500-won coin, along with a pack of Marlboro with three cigarettes left. I lit one of my cigarettes and inhaled deeply, in turn excreting a small cloud. I could not smoke even half of the cigarette. Smoking did not help at all; my heart started to beat even faster. After I threw the stub on the ground, I hastily headed for the closest convenience store. Within the periphery of my vision, I could catch a glimpse of a young boy picking up the still-smoldering remainder of my cigarette and taking it to his lips.
As soon as I entered the store, I asked for a scratch-off; it costed 1,000 won each. I handed my 5,000-won bill to the clerk. The pretty-looking clerk – perhaps in her mid-thirties – ripped off one ticket from a bundle and gave it to me with four 1,000-won notes. Using my 500-won coin, I scratched the stiff piece of paper. Nothing – not even 1,000 won. I felt a bead of perspiration rolling down past my left eyebrow. As if drawn by some diabolic power, I went back to the counter and asked for one more scratch-off. It was, like the previous one, a failure. Now, I only had 3,000 won left; I could not even buy a pack of cigarettes for tomorrow. With the same fiendish force dragging me, I ran to the counter for the third time. I was panting violently. The clerk glanced at me with a weird look. I stuck out all of my paper-money, demanding for three tickets. Before the clerk took them, my eyes met the eyes of three identical men with long beards. They were gazing me from each 1,000-won bill. Their pupils mocked at me, but not without a trace of sympathy.
After I scratched all of the three cards, I found that only one of them was a winning-ticket. The prize was 1,000 won. When I brought the ticket to the counter, the clerk tried to give me one more scratch-off in the place of the prize. “That’s what most people do,” she said. I declined; I told her that I wanted to stop the game and get the 1,000 won. “You are a smart guy,” the clerk said with a smile. I neatly folded my new 1,000-won note and put it in my right pocket. The bell hanging on the glass door rattled as I left the store. When I was sure that no one was looking, I carefully pulled out the prize-note and unfolded it. I expected to see the bearded man staring at me. But he was not there; Sue was there instead. Unlike the scornful man, she smiled at me. “Do you want to hold my hand? You seem kind of uneasy,” she offered. I did as she told. Her hand was warm, but not damp. Sue came closer to me, still holding my hand tight. I leaned on her shoulder, recognizing the scent of her lustrous hair. Then, I nuzzled my face against her bosom; I felt a stream of hot liquid running down my cheek. I did not wipe it, though. Sue’s cotton t-shirt absorbed my tears completely.
Suddenly, I felt a drop of fluid running into my mouth. It tasted salty. I looked down at the 1,000-won note in my hand. I was glad that my eyes were blurred, and I did not have to see the old man drawn on the front side of the bill. Holding the prize-money, along with my last coin with a crane inscribed on it, I headed for another convenience store. Maybe this time, Sue would hold me tight in her bed, underneath her blanket. Maybe this time, she would embrace me as if to crush all of my bones – waiting calmly until I fell asleep.
THE END