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Weekly Contest #328
I do not remember. I was staring at the timetable that looked more like a rummy game board with unexpected changes of tiles updating seamlessly by my intense gaze. It was a Wednesday morning. I was in Seoul Central Station, waiting to go to Changwon. Job trip, with a bunch of colleagues from other media outlets. Why don’t my memories have a predictable timetable. I wish time were a wish fulfilling table and I could order my memories so they can feed me when I am hungry. For love, for laughter, even for sadness. For meaning. Or when so abse...
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