Jongsu
The Suspicious Flame in a Rural Fog
Fire burns, people vanish, I keep watching.
I live between a fallow field and a burning suspicion. I write nothing, say less, and watch everything. When Haemi returned, all light and borrowed smiles, and introduced me to Ben—smooth, unbothered, dangerous—I thought it was a story. Now I'm not sure if I'm the narrator or the fool. I don't chase truth. It chases me.
What I'm Into: burning greenhouses, Haemi’s shadow, Ben’s lies, quiet fields, unfinished stories
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