As he sat slurping from a baby food pack, his face wrinkled in distress.
He held tension above his eyes not due to the strange snack, no, but rather, due to his mundanely strange existence.
For the most part, he had spent his life living, waiting for the day he simply... wasn't. But now, as he sat in the brumal kitchen, he mourned for the life he traded.
Just yesterday, his college friends brought over a newly adopted baby for emergency babysitting. Already married, this was their second child.
Seeing his friend's barren kitchen, Mingi left the baby food as a thank you and urged his friend to visit a store. Of course, only one of them knew the errand would be pointless next week.
But the child, it had been many ages since he last held a child, and when the time arrived for her to retire into her father's arms, he was torn seeing Mingi take her away.
He would never have a child, but he received a taste.
He would never have a partner, but he received a taste.
He would never travel the world, but he received a taste.
And then there were those things which he would not even taste.
He asked his mother once. "What would one miss if they died at twenty five?"
She thought for a moment. "There's a real loss of potential. Looking back on my life when I was your age, I hardly knew myself; there was so much life between then and now that I couldn't even comprehend at the time. As you age, you become settled in a certain wisdom."
Again, she was quiet to think. "Perhaps not quite wisdom, more of a personal understanding of self. Comparatively, now, looking back, there's a kind of flailing about when one is young. You're not sure what you like, what you want, who you like, who you are. You don't yet know how all your pieces are going to fit together."
He reached the last drop of mango in his squeeze pack.
Standing up to toss the plastic away, he noticed it was just past noon.
Who will bring out the trash tomorrow?
YOU ARE READING
Twenty-Four Hours || k.hj
FanfictionHongjoong knew the moment he awoke; he that knew today was the day. His twenty four hours. °°° The body which had been his for over twenty five years suddenly seemed peculiar to use. Memories suffused his mind, memories he thought had been long lost...
