The Dream of You

Chapter 1: Finding

The 10° that was forecasted felt more like 5° to Lisa's sherpa-lined denim jacket, as she tried crossing her arms and hunching her shoulders as she walked the busy streets of Gwanak-Gu. She should really know better, this being her second year of experiencing this kind of cold, but the buildings of Seoul National University were too cosy and she had forgotten that she's planning to go out tonight.

Friday nights for Lisa isn't exactly how usual mid-twenty youngsters would normally spend. Young Lisa has been living alone for more than a year now in Seoul, and while she has tried to acclimatise herself by socialising with her elders in the Uni, she has taken to just spending her Friday nights with her two favourite names: Mr. Yoo (the shop keeper) and Cass (the beer, which she conveniently has a lot of at home bought by bulk at a discounted price). She turned into a dark alley cutting one of the corners (despite her mother's insistence, that, Lisa, please be safe and don't go into dark areas) and emerging into another busy street, then ducking into the less crowded space of Mr. Yoo's Used Books, which hosted about two more shivering bodies tonight, aside from the storekeeper himself.

"Annyeong, Mr. Yoo," Lisa kindly bowed to the pudgy elderly gentleman, who was busy shuffling a few old books together around the shelves. He returned the greeting with a nod and smiled fondly at Lisa, whom he has taken to like his own child. Her usual trips to the store had gotten him used to the young and amiable Thai, whose insatiable reading habits were undeterred by weather conditions.

"Good evening, Lisa," He greeted back, but frowned at the frail young blonde's choice of sweater like a father figure. Lisa is used to Mr. Yoo pretty much being stern to her – she feels he has taken to looking after her even if they only meet about 3 or so times a month and even perhaps has become his favourite customer; she has entertained this like a child to a foster father, much like her own stepfather who has adopted her when she was young. She has gotten used to her life becoming more about being adopted by other kind souls she has met along the way.

"You should be wearing more warm clothes, Lisa-ya. It's supposed to get colder tonight," Mr. Yoo chided. Lisa smiled politely but was warm with the safeguarding she gets from the old man, perhaps one of the many reasons why she'd rather hang out here on a Friday night. When she's feeling homesick for her own family she finds her own recluse in this small shop that affords her the smell of old books and the fatherly concern of Mr. Yoo in a relatively affordable price.

"I'll be fine, Mr. Yoo. I will be going straight home after this," Lisa assured him. He shook his head sternly but nodded to another section at the far corner.

"There are new books over there, but try to go home before it gets colder, yes?" Lisa smiles affectionately at Mr. Yoo, then proceeds to look around the newly dropped used books section.

Like some of the store's patrons, Lisa has adopted the habit of sitting on the floor to regard the titles on the lower shelves cautiously. Her current allowance only allowed her to enjoy some things frugally, and instead of using it for drinking outside, she has taken to raiding used books. The old Korean man's store, she found, gets new batches of books every week; which is a huge plus in terms of titles diversity aside from getting a discount from the owner himself.

About 25 minutes into perusing a few covers, Lisa has now 2 books and 2 other titles she's considering that she hasn't picked off the shelves yet. In her hand were one architecture book that she thought to be interesting and one classic book by Fitzgerald. The last one is not exactly something that she wants to read through now but always had in mind. She headed over to Mr. Yoo's counter gingerly.

"Just two?" Mr. Yoo asked, looking at the books Lisa had in her arm. She shook her head.

"I'm not sure, actually. Do you have other new ones?"

Mr. Yoo nodded to a few boxes stacked at the far end of the store.

"I haven't catalogued those, but you can look around. I can give them to you for a friendly price?"

Lisa grinned and nodded. She left the two books at the counter and went straight to the boxes. Nothing like new haul that's waiting to get explored.

She goes through the lot: a few of them were mostly academic books, some typical history books. She went through a few more – some battered Homer, Shakespeare. A few fascinating fiction.

Nothing of immediate interest, at least for Lisa.

She was about to close the 2nd box when a title caught her eye. Cocking her head to the side with curiosity, she picked up the small thin white book, cover edges slightly frayed with age; its originally vibrant cover now a little faded and slightly powdery to touch as she attempted to dust off the book.

The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry.

A slight wave of nostalgia hit Lisa as she assessed the little pocketbook: The Little Prince was one of the first books her stepfather got her, using it as a bedtime story and bonding time that made her at ease with him when they were just getting to know each other. She smiled as she remembered insisting on having the story read again and again, despite having other books to read. She likes to think that this has started her long love affair with reading.

She tried evaluating the book again in her teen aged years and found it to be a little too fairytale-ish and perhaps in her pubescent stubbornness, thought it to be simply one of those juvenile stories best left for kids. She would of course mentally kick herself for it when she grew older and re-read the book, not realising the classic and timeless effect it had. It remains to be one of her most favourite books, but she left it in her bedroom's shelves along with most of her childhood belongings when she had to fly to Seoul.

The used feel of it felt at home immediately in Lisa's fingers as she shifted through its yellowish rolled pages. Her eyebrows raised when she found a few highlighted parts and a few notes on the pages, all in English.

She flipped to the first page of the book. Her fingers slowly etched on the cursives that said, in smooth handwriting:

Jennie Kim, 2017.

Lisa's brow creased in heavy consideration. She's not sure if she wanted to get a book she has already read before, but the sentiment of it is overwhelming: perhaps reading a bit of something that reminded her of her home would make her feel less lonely tonight in Seoul. She went through a few pages again and, after closing the boxes, went straight to the cashier where Mr. Yoo approvingly looked at the books she took and gave her a discount and got away with 3 books for $15.