I feel intense abhorrence at this situation in which I am sitting next to this drunk asshole. The smell of stale cigarettes and the alcohol stench from his mouth is repugnant. I feel like my brain is about to explode. I’m going to get off at the next station.

“Churches, Buddhist temples, they’re all the same. The world is a rotten place. Rotten through and through.” The man hacks up phlegm and spits out the window. “Don’t you agree?”

“What?”

“I heard the head pastor at that church got caught with married ladies. Not one or two. Several. It’s a big-time shit-show over there. Haven’t you heard? Even the kids around this town heard about it, tsk tsk.”

I sit in silence.

“So what. Did you meet that pastor or whatever? What’s your deal with her?” I jump up to my feet and stagger away from him. As I get off the bus he yells after me. “Where are you going? Don’t you need the umbrella?”

Part IV

Part IV

Interview

Interview

I stand before the entrance to my mother’s house, under its corrugated metal roof. I don’t mean to scare her with my visit. What should I say to calm her down if she embraces me and starts crying? I press down on my chest to calm my pounding heart. With a finger I tuck my wet hair behind my ear. I stomp my feet to shake the dirt and briquette ashes from my shoes. What if she faints?

Knock knock knock. All I did was knock lightly on the door, but the frosted glass rattles like it’s going to fall out of the aluminum frame. A dark gray shadow approaches the glass from the other side.

“Who’s there?”

“Hi, this is Jeong Yeoul.” At my response the shadow freezes, and I can hear her sharp gasp through the door. I feel myself sink into the gloom like when I visited my grandmother’s tomb on a gorgeous spring day. Should I have brought a bouquet of flowers here, too?