Steam Over the Wall
Half past six in the morning, and the smell of doenjang stew rose from over the wall. For as long as I breathed in that smell, even an unfamiliar alley felt like an old house.
Half past six in the morning, and the smell of doenjang stew rose from over the wall. For as long as I breathed in that smell, even an unfamiliar alley felt like an old house.
Look up suddenly and a drop will fall from the clothesline in the yard. At that hour, I always walk on the shady side.
A morning I looked up at the sound of a door closing, the soy sauce in the glass jar on the cupboard had gone down by a palm's width without my noticing.