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HA-YUN JUNG HOME SPHERES .t. was not in bed. I knew where he was; it had happened often enough. Even during the very early months of our marriage, when we lived in a crammed brick building in Cambridge that had no yard or deck, I once found him sitting on the roof in the middle of a breezy autumn night, gazing up at the stars. Because the roof had no railings or side walls, the sight of him on the rough cement at first frightened me. But as I approached him, I could see how completely at ease he was: he had his knees up and his hands locked on top of them, and his black hair waved in the wind. He took my hand and kissed my cold knuckles. "It was such a clear night that I had to come up and take a look," he said. Above us, a waning half-moon hung in the midst of a vast, dark field studded with celestial lights. Things could not have turned out any other way, it seemed. How could I not have fallen in love with this man--gentle, not quite knowable, slender as a doe? When the chill
Manoa – University of Hawai'I Press
Published: Mar 13, 2002
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