Great Novelist

He was surprised by the crumbs on his mouth.

“You're better than him. How did you know?”

“You can tell by the painting. ”

Junsu smiled lightly. He stared at such adherence.

“You seem thoughtful. ”

“I always have a lot on my mind. ”

He does not know what Junsu is thinking. However, he had always had a kind smile, but he was also greedy when it came to writing. Just by looking at the sentences he writes. How many times have I thought of a better sentence than this?

I can't even imagine. I thought about it for a while and went out to usual.

“I saw an article. He introduced himself as a coincidence writer in the river. That's what they're going to call it over the next few years. ”

“Of course. This piece has become your masterpiece. Crying in the birdstream, and the river water. ”

“And the writer happened to have a recharge break.

The publisher stepped up and said it was untrue, but the article had already spread a lot. It was a pretty realistic thing to say. My fellow writers must be thinking the same thing.

“But I'm going to use it. ”

He said, there's plenty to recharge. The expression "accumulation" would be more appropriate.

“I don't have a good memory of the river. I don't like this nickname. ”

“So?”

So what do you want to talk about? The question of obedience opened his mouth.

“I want to write better. ”

Junsu's gaze came and stuck. He said that he is not so different from you. I want to go higher. There's a place I want to go up there.

“You have to keep your feet, hands and hands busy to float on the water. ”

“· · · · · · · Yes. ”

Obedience slowly raised his head.

“You want me to write one more letter at a time like this? ”

“I don't mean that arrogance. ”

“I guess I got a little carried away, too. Are you saying this is a star disease? What do you think, Mr. Coincidence? ”

“Compared to me, she's very medicated. It's okay."

He repressed the shameful memories and replied. Later, it became popular. Turning around, he stood still. Junsu and Master flinched for a moment.

“The speaker is furious that it's past showtime. ”

“Oh, that's a long story. ”

“I'll go in.”

Junsu and Ahjussi quickly moved their feet. As he went in, he saw the picture and stopped again.

“Should I take this inside? It's cloudy.”

“Yes. Put it on the table. I'll take this. ”

Junsu, who took food from the arms of the Lord, went inside. He tried to go inside with the painting and saw the current situation still standing.

“What's the matter? ”

“Can you tell me another way to float? ”

“· · · · · · Have you heard? ”

Hyundai smiled.

“Unfortunately, I can't close my ears, and I can't turn them. I didn't stop him. I apologize if I offended you.”

“No, no. ”

He bows his head. On top of that, I heard his voice.

“Lose your strength. ”

After reflexively relaxing his shoulders, he realized that it was different from what he had said. It's another way to float.

“I can think with all my strength. I'm so tired of playing soccer. Well, maybe that's none of your business for a hotheaded young man like yourself. ”

A relaxed smile hangs on his face. At that moment, the feeling of good-looking took over my mind. He was really handsome.

“No · · · · · · · · · No. ”

That was a weak answer. Hyundai turned around without saying anything and went inside. He moved to the library, not the classroom where the movie was playing. He mutters, looking down at his painting.

“How did you know? ”

I feel a little lighter on my shoulder that I didn't know myself.

People rush to pass a traffic light with a single digit flashing. If the number disappears and the color changes, it cannot be crossed. But if you wait, the next one will come. People who cross the highway without crossing the state, without going to the white line, don't feel like they don't know it.

It looked like.

It's not that you don't know the urgency of the visible numbers. I am proud that I have a fast bridge that I can cross in time. I also believed that the cars would wait for me. The person who ran away with his hair flew over in time. week (s)

When the arc reached the traffic light, it was already their turn. It passed quickly.

He waited for the red light to change. May it come from the outside. I want to start writing. It's been a while since I had such an idea. In the bookstore, literary magazines from other publishers that are stricken by the success of endings and beginnings are sold with their own characteristics.

You're on your way out. In front of the name, coincidentally, there's still the acronym "river" attached, and the character whose belief is inevitable has become so famous that no one knows it. People were having fun overlapping coincidences with necessities.

You see a red light. What kind of writing do you want? He stopped in front of the question. What kind of topics do I write down? I was waiting with my senses to protect the signal.

“It's changed.”

I checked the green light and crossed the road. Across the street, a large mental health center was a fairly sophisticated building. It was like an experimental center for science magazines, a building for universities, a normal asylum a year ago.

A dark brown brick peered through the high wire fence and the wall.

I changed my name and appearance. However, the rehab facility located next to the building still retained traces of the past. An old building made of dark brown bricks with a small tennis court remained trapped in a green cage.

“Looks like a trail. ”

The mental health center that transformed the image was like a park. There was a bench, a tree, and every time the wind blew, a circulating windometer was engraved. There were no more gray walls that seemed to be covered with cement, wire fences blocking buildings and roads. Elementary

A life-looking child was riding his bicycle around in front of him. A lot of people and cars are passing by. The transformation seemed to be successful.

He sat on the bench for a moment. It was good to come for a walk. Not a bad place. At night in school, there's still a rumor that a patient who escaped from a mental hospital is hiding behind a streetlight and following someone.

He recalled the conversation that the children were talking about in the classroom. That's how it got out. A fire. There has been a fire in one of the houses recently. The guy who lived nearby was in the same class. It was noisy for a while. When he described the place, he used the word "asylum."

Used. Luckily, there was no fatality, but I remember that the fire was quite extensive. I also heard that the water had flown from the house next door. I also heard that ten fire trucks are on the move. He was nervous about a fire spreading in a nearby house.

Let's go. Just a little further past the rehab center and you'll have a house on fire. I looked at the rotating windmill for a moment and woke up. And I slowly walked.

“There you are.”

I knew right away. Black. All the windows and doors are separated. The building was high up on this floor and was looking like a ruin in the form of a rising fire. It was hard to imagine what color the building was.

He stared at the building. It was heterogeneous. Only the streets that people passed by and this building burned down inside the houses where people lived. I can't see my insides, even though the windows and doors are all falling out. It was like all kinds of cursed space. People look up to him.

I stared at the house that had turned black as I passed by. The house was in such a terrifying shape that it inadvertently noticed. It came to my attention that there was a quite severe fire.

Fire leaves such a terrible mark.

The wind blows. The nearby persimmon trees shake. Leaves fall. He fixes his gaze on the falling leaves for a moment. The leaves soon landed on the car parked below. I saw it and thought about it. Liquorice and leaves. And tea.

“Leaf tea.”

“Phew.”

You hear laughter. He turns around. There, a man with a rare beard with a good impression was biting a cigarette with no fire. There's a smile on his face. He was the one who made the sound of the wind.

“It's been a long time. ”

The man gave a generous score. He was wearing a hospital gown. The mark of the mental health center is engraved on the clothing. He bites a cigarette in his mouth for a moment, then turns around once, looks at Australia once, and once at the house on fire. Where are you going?

I don't know why he's standing in front of the building.

He didn't catch him. But the fire station passed over him. I felt strongly that he was the one who lit the fire there. It's a wild guess. It must have been the effects of the firefighters' tear-filled video in a psych consultation a while ago.

The heroes shed tears thinking about their colleagues who worked with the unsaved. It was ambushed by a collapse. It was because of the heart disease I had with my job. It was the fire. He suffered. I held on to my guilt.

They are people who voluntarily do cruel things, being appreciated and respected by everyone. Someone's savior.It was hope I met in the fire. Many people wanted them to be happy. I was hoping to be treated well.

I was looking at the back of a man who was moving away. I see black cheeks. Firefighter's clothing, firefighter's clothing, and firefighter's gloves were all over his body. Fit in.

Then the man slammed his shoulder against the pedestrian. He shakes his head for a moment.

“Fuck.”

The man swears. I was furious. The passerby slammed his shoulder and was momentarily embarrassed. The passageway bows in reflex. There was life in his rage. Unwarranted guesses are easily broken.

The arsonist's image overlaps over him. A tale I had heard at school suddenly popped out. I tried to reason randomly. He escapes from a mental hospital, follows someone behind a streetlight and sets the building on fire. The reason is because I missed the target I was following. He was angry.

It's an expression of his anger.

What's the truth? Who is he? Good impressions and lively eyes, cigarettes and hospital clothes. I heard laughter and swearing in my ears. He found himself getting nervous. Let's stay calm. What should you do?

I instinctively found a man. The man has already hidden himself. He ran down the road to find him. But even in front of the asylum, he was nowhere to be seen. Is it already in? Then there is no way we can meet again. I don't know his name or age. I don't even know who that is.

God doesn't know him.

How it Works (4) Ends

lim Han-baek