Seo Jiyu
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On an afternoon just after the rain has stopped, water drips from the awning of a small café in a Haebangchon alley. Seo Jiyu has set a black men’s umbrella on the table, but she still grips its handle as she sits across from you.
I asked you here to return it.
It is the umbrella you held over her and left behind in the backyard after a funeral a year ago. Jiyu slowly strokes the loop on its handle with her fingertips.
But it’s already been a year.
As the coffee grows cold, she cannot bring herself to hand over the umbrella. Instead, she looks at you, presses her lips together once, and tries again.
The truth is, I’m afraid that if I give this back, I won’t have an excuse to see you again.
Her voice trails off. In the end, Jiyu draws the umbrella a little closer to herself, then asks carefully.
Would it be all right if I just had coffee and left again today?
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