Winter hurried to her room, her heart bubbling with anticipation. Her mother, noticing the brightness in her daughter's demeanor at such an early hour, raised an eyebrow in curiosity.
Upon reaching her sanctuary, she wasted no time and hastily tore open the envelope that held the long-awaited response from her mysterious correspondent. A cascade of questions flooded her mind, but her primary focus was on what lay within the confines of the letter itself.
"Winter! It's time to head to school!" Her mother's voice interrupted her reverie, causing a wave of frustration to wash over her, thwarting her desire to delve into the letter's contents. "Just a moment, Mom!" she called back, her attention still fixated on the words waiting to be uncovered.
The letter read:
"Greetings,
I'm delighted you took the time to write me back, and I'm truly honored. However, I must inform you that this is all I can share. I am unable to divulge any personal information, as doing so could jeopardize my circumstances. I hope to hear from you soon!"
Disappointment enveloped her as she read the response; her shoulders slumped as the realization set in-she would remain in the dark about the identity of the person on the other end of this correspondence. Winter's thoughts raced as she contemplated how to elicit more information through future letters. Perhaps persistence would encourage her pen pal to unveil more of their true self. Yet, a nagging question lingered in her mind: why did this individual adopt such a formal tone? It was not characteristic of a young adult, particularly one her age.
• • •
During lunch, her friend Ningning inquired, "So, how is the book coming along, Winter?"
Ningning was originally from China, but her parents' business ventures in Gangnam had necessitated her relocation, leaving her little choice but to adapt to her new life in Korea.
"Yeah, do share something with us!" Giselle chimed in, the enthusiasm evident in her voice.
Giselle had once called Japan home, but following her parents' divorce, she and her mother had moved to Korea, seeking a fresh start.
Winter shrugged in response, a frown etched upon her face. "Honestly, there's nothing interesting to report. I've hit a wall with my writing. It all feels lame, and inspiration seems to have eluded me," she admitted, her pout betraying her frustration. Writer's block was the bane of every writer's existence. For some, it felt as though they were forced to compose superfluous chapters, merely to bridge the gap until the thoughts flowed freely again.
Giselle offered an encouraging smile. "I told you, clichés often work best! They might be repetitive, but they resonate with readers, Win," she reassured her friend.
Winter stood up, intent on fetching a caffeine fix to stimulate her thoughts. "I'm going to grab a latte. Anything you two want?" she asked.
"I'd love a caramel macchiato!" Ningning answered.
"Make mine a pumpkin spiced latte," Giselle chimed in eagerly.
"Got it!" Winter replied, distractedly reaching into her pocket for cash. Consequently, she remained oblivious to the fact that her pen had been teetering precariously close to the edge. Just as she fished out the crumpled bills, she collided with another person, their elbows bumping awkwardly. Winter's pen clattered to the floor, and as the other individual picked it up, an unexpected bow of acknowledgment came from them before they rushed away. She dusted herself off, muttering a mild curse under her breath, annoyed at the distraction.
Once she had her order in hand, an epiphany struck her like a bolt of lightning, illuminating her mind with creative ideas.
"Guys, I think I've got an idea!" she exclaimed, excitement bubbling within her.
• • •
When Winter finally returned home, she trailed through the familiar door and plopped herself onto the couch in exhaustion. The day had drained her energy, especially due to the compulsory emergency drills for earthquakes and fire outbreaks that had felt lengthy and tedious.
"I prepared pork skewers for dinner," her mother announced cheerfully, glancing at Winter who was sprawled out on the furniture. Winter merely smiled, her thoughts drifting nostalgically to the carefree days of high school.
Drawing a thumbs-up response from Winter, her mother's grin broadened as she observed her daughter's languor.
"So, how was your day?" her mother prompted.
"Uh, nothing much happened. Just drills and some light chatter with friends," Winter replied dismissively, maintaining a facade of indifference. Nevertheless, her mother's sly smile suggested she was thinking more than she let on.
"Does that involve boys, young crushes, and perhaps first kisses?" she teased playfully.
Winter squirmed, her face scrunching up in mild disgust. She couldn't fathom her mother's relentless nudging, as if she had forgotten the very nature of adolescence, where thoughts of prom nights, first loves, and endearing crushes occupied every teen's mind.
"Seriously, Mom, no!" Winter protested vehemently.
A moment of contemplation hung in the air before her mother suggested mischievously, "So, does this mean my daughter has developed an interest in girls?"
Winter's brows knitted together in annoyance, though deep inside, both knew the truth of the matter remained unspoken. Ever since middle school, Winter had admired the beauty and character of girls, yet in Korea, such sentiments were often met with scrutiny and criticism, deemed as deviating from established norms.
"No, Mom, absolutely not!" she retorted firmly, although the lingering doubt in her mind betrayed her conviction. A mother's intuition, as they say, often rings true.
That evening, Winter sat down with a fresh piece of stationery, determined to respond to her pen pal's letter. Thrilled by the notion of a penfriendship, she was nonetheless consumed by curiosity about the identity of this individual.
"Hello there,
My day unfolded quite normally... until you decided to keep your details hidden, which is simply not acceptable. However, I would like to pose a few questions. I'm eager to learn more about you! How old are you? What school do you attend? Where is it you call home?
Yours truly,
Winter"
With a renewed sense of hope, she folded the letter, sealed it in an envelope, and slid it into the mailbox, whispering to herself,
"I genuinely hope to learn more about you."
YOU ARE READING
ATTACHED • Winrina
FanfictionWinter kept receiving letters from an unknown recipient. One day, the recipient wrote her name and date. She discovered they were decades apart. ❗Winter × Karina❗
