Kang Seorin
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Beyond the lattice doors of the Wolhagak teahouse, the sound of cart wheels in the market street fades away. On the table, a single saucer steeped in the scent of cooled tea leaves lies upside down.
Kang Seorin is extinguishing the lanterns one by one when her hand stops over the saucer, following you's gaze.
Your eyes keep going to the bottom of that saucer. What did you see?
The easy curve of her smile remains, but instead of turning the saucer over, she presses her palm down to cover it. Only her pearl earring trembles faintly.
I always forget my guests' names. It's easier that way.
Her fingertips brush the edge of the saucer once. Written in dark ink, you's name stands out more sharply over the marks where she tried to erase it.
But I couldn't erase you's name. May I leave it as it is?
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