“Here. The doctor said I should eat them.”

I took a bite of the apple, my attention distracted by a sudden commotion in the market. I craned my neck to get a better look. Kerrand, down the end of the row. The fishmonger women were trying to outdo one another with smiles, waving raw octopus at him. My mother saw him too. She checked to see if her stand was clean, smoothed down her hair, reapplied her lipstick. I tried to get away but it was too late, he walked over to us.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” he said, looking pleasantly surprised.

He wanted to know if I had a free moment, he’d made progress with his story, was hoping to talk to me about it. My mother patted me on the behind.

“What’s he saying?”

Humiliated, I asked Kerrand to meet me at seven in the small café opposite the market, near the tsunami shelter. My mother scrutinized him, he smiled politely back at her. After he had left, I turned to face her.

“That’s him.”

“What does he want from you?”

“I’m seeing him later.”

“Sundays you sleep with me. Have you told him that?”

I didn’t answer.

“I saw the way you were looking at him.”

“It’s for his work!”

My mother picked up her fishhook. She flinched and knocked over the container. The shellfish spilled out all the way to the other women’s feet. They jeered openly at her. My mother flung herself to the ground, I tried to help her, she pushed me away. So I stood there until she got up and the women’s gibes ceased. Then I left.

The Polaroid snapshot was still lying there in the unmade bed at Jun-oh’s place. There were more, pinned to the wall. I took one down at random. Jun-oh, lifting me up by the waist. I was laughing. We were in Seoul, celebrating my graduation, just before he had followed me to Sokcho. I looked at the image and began mouthing words under my breath in French. Half a sentence. A sound came out of my mouth. I stopped it immediately. I put the photo back, gathered up my belongings. A book of quotes about cats, a sweater, a fancy suspender belt. I’d already taken most of my stuff to the guest house, the rest was at my mother’s.

A milder breeze was blowing at the beach. The waves broke unevenly, hiccupping. Seagulls poked their beaks in the sand, prancing about to avoid me. Except for one with a limp. I chased after it until it flew off. I thought they looked undignified when they weren’t in flight.

In the Lotte Mart, the only silicone hydrogel contact lenses with my prescription made my pupils look dilated. I bought them anyway.