† 36

57 10 4
                                    




     she tried to leave her apartment, shoes a chore to find in the dark. frozen hands felt for her coat, weight shifting ever so slightly. squeak. creak. squeak.

     soo kyu locked her apartment in with a fatigued jaeyeol, a scrawled note in the fridge.

     she heaved her bag on her back, counting her change. she saw the clock out a shop - 3:52am.

     legs drifted her to the park, the blanket still up on the tree. she took it down, rolling herself in it.

     opening her new book - her old one has disgusting ink scribbled everywhere - she read from the streetlight next to her bench.

     she placed the flower down her lap, freezing. it was wilting, just like her effort to care.

prism [ kim s.j ] ( fin )Where stories live. Discover now