Lies took the elevator.
Truth took the stairs.
Both arrived and met Revelation.
Jane killed a family in a car accident. Depressive and accustomed to self-harm, she decides to go back to where her life toppled upside down. Jane doesn't know what to e...
There's only one thing I care about, the chauffeur of the other car. My mind wonders about him as much as I think of my family. They are an essential part of my existence.
My heart yearns for the driver who took their lives like some psychotic lover. The driver lingers in my head every day.
Are they happy and healthy?
Because I'm not.
Do they have a family?
Because I don't.
Do they think of the accident?
Because I do.
Do they regret it, or are they repenting?
"Tae Won," my one-nighter interrupts my thoughts wrapping her arms around my neck. Her fingers caress the nip making my baby hairs stand up.
Wow, I can't believe she knows my name when I don't remember hers. What was it again? Yum Mi, Gum Mi, or Bum Mi?
"Eh,ー."
"Mirae."
Damn, I was way off track.
"Don't you want to have breakfast? My husband won't be back from his business trip tomorrow."
Mirae's words remind me why I leave while they are sleeping, playing an affair soap opera where I hide in the closet, or I jump out the window at the sound of turning keys or beeps of a door code isn't my thing.
Going for punching rounds also is a no-no; finding myself held in custody is costly, I can't afford either lawyer or bail.
Women like Mirae are blasé by their wealth and daily routine, consisting of shopping and brunching with other homemakers of their caliber. They gather in hotels and country clubs, gossiping, comparing new noses and breasts.
They seek thrills, and I'm a cheap and good one at that; it's a give-and-take situation. The sex is enough for me; I don't need more. I'm not a gigolo.
"Listen, Mirae, I don't do breakfast in bed and all that stuff; it was fun but, let's stop here."
I remove her arms from my neck. She blinks her eyes in disbelief, vexed and offended, but what the heck. No, I don't need a woman in my life, especially a married one, at least a decade older than me.
Four years ago, when I was a promising swimmer saying this sort of thing wouldn't have been on the day's schedule because this scene would never occur.
With a thoroughly planned life, a spot in the national team, and a beautiful girlfriend, who I was sure to marry, everything seemed flat and well laid out. My destiny was a straight line like a 400 yards swim where I could even do a freestyle.
Sadness for me represented a few days away from a pool, and my only complaint in life was not to be able to compete in every category. Back then, I didn't even realize how blessed I was, nor did I ponder about the probabilities of having that bliss taken away because there was no reason to do so.
I possessed the world's greatest assets and richness: looks, brains, family, friends, and a gorgeous girl who loved me.
What more could I ask for?
Then it tragedy struck, the kind that destroys and reduces one to the simple composition of their DNA.
"I'm sorry, Mirae," I say while putting on my shoes and walking to the door where I step out.
The door slams.
That's how my life is now, a sequence of slammed doors.
Dramatic, isn't it?
Rất tiếc! Hình ảnh này không tuân theo hướng dẫn nội dung. Để tiếp tục đăng tải, vui lòng xóa hoặc tải lên một hình ảnh khác.
Rất tiếc! Hình ảnh này không tuân theo hướng dẫn nội dung. Để tiếp tục đăng tải, vui lòng xóa hoặc tải lên một hình ảnh khác.
