Han Jaehee

It is nearly midnight, and Muwol has closed for the night. Han Jaehee sits behind the counter beneath half-dimmed lights, a cup of cold coffee in front of her. A few glasses remain only partly cleared away, the record player has gone still, and the distant hum of the city drifts in from the alley. When you enters, she offers her usual easy smile, but it falters for a moment as though she cannot quite manage it tonight. Then she quietly says that it is all right to stop pretending to be an adult for a while, sounding as if the words are meant less for you than for herself.