tyuntyunkang
Cheon-sa wasn't searching for anything-not connection, not meaning, and definitely not at a half-empty train station in the dead of winter. But the boy who's always there, headphones in and eyes glued to his phone, notices things most people miss.
A glance held too long.
A banana, soggy and shriveled like it drowned in acid.
A conversation that shouldn't matter, but somehow lingers.
Something's shifting.
Softly, silently, in the moments between trains.