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Change of Life

Change of Life by Kim Hoon Translated by Jae Won Chung n the days she visited my apartment, my older sister would Opass the evening seated at a table in front of the balcony window. Around dusk she would become almost chatty. Well, not chatty exactly, but usually she seemed barely able to open her mouth. I read in a special issue of a women’s magazine that around dusk, menopausal women get anxious for no reason. Maybe my sister’s chattiness had something to do with that. What she talked about in the evenings was mostly gibberish. Like the wind or the dusk ’s red glow, her words were vague and elusive, as if spoken from far away. Maybe it’s not so accurate to say that I heard her words; they just seemed to brush by me. I never knew how to respond to her. —Hey, that plane looks just like a fish. Just look at those fins, my sister would say, as she looked out the balcony window at a plane being absorbed into the reddening sky over Kanghwa Island. She continued to gaze at the plane, which had taken off from K’imp’o Airport. It appeared massive, like a shark, over the http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png Azalea: Journal of Korean Literature & Culture University of Hawai'I Press

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Publisher
University of Hawai'I Press
ISSN
1939-6120
eISSN
1944-6500

Abstract

by Kim Hoon Translated by Jae Won Chung n the days she visited my apartment, my older sister would Opass the evening seated at a table in front of the balcony window. Around dusk she would become almost chatty. Well, not chatty exactly, but usually she seemed barely able to open her mouth. I read in a special issue of a women’s magazine that around dusk, menopausal women get anxious for no reason. Maybe my sister’s chattiness had something to do with that. What she talked about in the evenings was mostly gibberish. Like the wind or the dusk ’s red glow, her words were vague and elusive, as if spoken from far away. Maybe it’s not so accurate to say that I heard her words; they just seemed to brush by me. I never knew how to respond to her. —Hey, that plane looks just like a fish. Just look at those fins, my sister would say, as she looked out the balcony window at a plane being absorbed into the reddening sky over Kanghwa Island. She continued to gaze at the plane, which had taken off from K’imp’o Airport. It appeared massive, like a shark, over the

Journal

Azalea: Journal of Korean Literature & CultureUniversity of Hawai'I Press

Published: Mar 23, 2011

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