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Snow Falling on Leakage

Snow Falling on Leakage By Han Yujoo omeone's got to visit me. Your humble narrator is always imagining scenes where she's meeting someone, and now, considering the hours and hours of Post-its I've used up, I deserve a visit. And so I waited. And just as I unwrapped a new block of Postits, the doorbell chimed. Was it a story, was it a film, was it a song, was it a dream? No, it was for real. I checked the intercom. And there in the square of the monitor, floating like a tiny island, was the white top of a head. "Who is it?" I asked. "I need to check the gas." I opened the door, and there on the threshold was the worn toe of a sneaker the color of sky. Followed by the right shoulder of a brown sweater. And then a right thigh clad in raggedy denim. And a small face with bangs half-covering her eyebrows. There were clumps of snow in her hair. "This shouldn't take long." Maybe she'd do for one of the main characters, a girl pretending to be an inspector from the gas company. She was shivering. I showed her to the kitchen, where she http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png Azalea: Journal of Korean Literature & Culture University of Hawai'I Press

Snow Falling on Leakage

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Publisher
University of Hawai'I Press
Copyright
Copyright © University of Hawai'I Press
ISSN
1944-6500
Publisher site
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Abstract

By Han Yujoo omeone's got to visit me. Your humble narrator is always imagining scenes where she's meeting someone, and now, considering the hours and hours of Post-its I've used up, I deserve a visit. And so I waited. And just as I unwrapped a new block of Postits, the doorbell chimed. Was it a story, was it a film, was it a song, was it a dream? No, it was for real. I checked the intercom. And there in the square of the monitor, floating like a tiny island, was the white top of a head. "Who is it?" I asked. "I need to check the gas." I opened the door, and there on the threshold was the worn toe of a sneaker the color of sky. Followed by the right shoulder of a brown sweater. And then a right thigh clad in raggedy denim. And a small face with bangs half-covering her eyebrows. There were clumps of snow in her hair. "This shouldn't take long." Maybe she'd do for one of the main characters, a girl pretending to be an inspector from the gas company. She was shivering. I showed her to the kitchen, where she

Journal

Azalea: Journal of Korean Literature & Culture – University of Hawai'I Press

Published: Apr 22, 2014

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