The drifters

Page 40

“Last time, my brother brought them to me and told me to wash them…. I, I didn’t do such a good job washing them though,” said Sunnyeo. She hesitated again before placing the bundle on the doorsill. With that, she rushed out of the yard as if to escape. Even after she was gone, Myeong-u sat stock still in the same spot, a dazed look on his face. He felt like he was dreaming, and his mind was too muddled to think straight. He dropped his gaze to look at the bundle Sunnyeo had left behind. He then dimly recalled the things she had said. His memories were fuzzy, like a dream. He stared blankly outside for a while longer until he remembered to open the bundle. The laundry, starched just the right amount, was still warm, as if it had been ironed just a short while ago. Gazing down at the neatly folded clothing for another moment, he gently opened the clean undershirt. Something dropped from its folds and landed on the floor. He did not have to pick it up to see that it was a handkerchief. Although made of cheaper artificial silk, it was nonetheless carefully embroidered with pretty patterns along the edges. Snapping out of his daze, he hurriedly packed the clothing back into the bundle and pushed it away to the corner. Changing his mind, he picked it up and tossed it at the chest of bedding that stood in the cold corner of the room. That evening, Myeong-u changed into the clean set of clothing and wandered around the dark alleyways until he reached the north gate. Sundong happened to be standing guard at the sentry box. “Hey, where are you off to?” “Going for a walk.” “Ok, I’ll grant you special permission, so don’t run away now.” “You ass.” As Myeong-u passed by Sundong’s smiling face, he felt his face turning crimson at the thought of the clothes he had on. He hurried past Sundong and headed toward the banks of the stream. Once he reached it, the babbling of the running water was indescribably tranquil. His heart ached terribly listening to the sound. Strangely enough, he also found himself wanting to talk to someone and cry all night in their warm embrace. He could not fathom why he was feeling such things. Agitated by these feelings he could not control, he picked up a pebble and threw it into the water. With that splash, the chirping of the insects immediately ceased. At that moment, Myeong-u was suddenly reminded of the poem Gyuseon was reciting earlier in the day. “Heartstrings! The rusted strings of my heart!” He pored over the memories he could only dimly recall for a long while before deciding to seek out Gyuseon to make an inquiry. His mind set, he hurried back to the village.

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