To My Dearest Roseanne

Chapter 7

She was the last person to leave the bookstore. It was already a late evening. In spite of school time in the morning, and attending cram school in the afternoon, she really wanted to get to the bookstore before closing time. She bought The Jewel in the Crown by Paul Scott and Tsubaki Stationery Store by Ito Ogawa.

Having carefully packed the books in a water-proof bag and placed them in a backpack, she began making her way through the rainy streets of Yeouido. Even though the weather was getting on the nerves of the tourists, she loved the rain that cleared the air and caused a faint mist in the surroundings.

There was little traffic, but she waited calmly at a large crossing for the lights to change. When she found herself on the other side of the street, she entered a picturesque walkway consumed by trees and lush hedges. At the sight of the marvellous greenery, she couldn't help but come up with a poem:

A bench in the woods,

my comfort zone.

A space of peaceful goods,

among the polyphones.

A polar bear, a cat, a rabbit,

three friends in a boat,

making a joyful racket.

What a personal anecdote!

Mr Bear scratches his tummy.

Mr Cat says the jelly is yummy.

Mr Rabbit already feels chummy.

Off they go, sunny and funny!

I sit on the bench,

looking at three friends.

Let me be in this natural trench

for the sake of happy ends.

The thick tree branches were so beautifully lit by the lamp posts that she wished she could never leave the street! She kept on walking, admiring the trees and corporate skyscrapers high above. Unfortunately, the rain increased its intensity, so she had to take out an umbrella. She always made sure to buy a transparent umbrella, to enjoy the views even in terrible weather.

Even though the sights and books she bought cheered her up, she felt a void of sadness stretching across her heart. She felt worthless, incomplete, as if she were playing the main part in a play but the screenwriter forgot to give her any dialogue or anything to do. She would occasionally glance at random passers-by or drivers in vehicles at the crossings, and wondered: Are these people as lonely as I am?

Same old song, same old lyrics, like a broken record: school, more cramming, library, reading in silence, sleep; rinse and repeat, Sam. Pardon me, play it again, Sam.

Suddenly, gusts of wind snatched her umbrella. She started running across the sidewalk to retrieve it, but the corners of her eyes noticed something strange. A rain of water transformed itself into a rain of sparks. Glittering lights were falling down on her, warming her skin like sunshine in the summer. She tried to look up. The sky was tainted in shades of dark orange. It was peculiar indeed, but peaceful at the same time.

Is this how the world is coming to an end? she thought while looking at the sky, expecting a comet to strike any minute. But this didn't happen.

Instead, she began experiencing flashes. Not flashes of light, but flashes of past events, that is. Her birthdays, her dental appointments, her graduation ceremonies, her tears, her handshakes, her smiles, her falls, her pastimes, her giggles, her wailings.

All of this didn't make any sense initially, but within the cascades of sparkling warmth, she finally understood what was going on. She got the picture and accepted new pieces of information with the aptitude of a gifted student. She was ready.

When the sparks ceased falling from the sky, the cars would stop with screeching tyres. Turns out one of the trees has fallen on an electrical pole, twisting it and snapping wires in the process. Now, the wires were lying exposed on wet asphalt, discharging electrical currents.

The road was empty.