Curled up on the bed, I lifted my head from my knees and gazed out the small window through which the city's noise squeezed in.
A Seoul rat reflects on urban exhaustion and small comforts from a cramped apartment window.
This is an English translation of a story originally written in Korean by the
Hwasee.bang community, one sentence at a time.
Each sentence was submitted separately and chosen by community vote before the next one could be written. Nobody knew how it would end.
Read the Korean original →
Each sentence was submitted separately and chosen by community vote before the next one could be written. Nobody knew how it would end.
Read the Korean original →
The hurrying people and the buildings writhing as if to swallow the sky—the things that had been suffocating me—now look small.
The life of a Seoul rat is hard; at least, mine is.
Still, tomorrow I should order chicken to eat—even a rat has desires.
This is a finished translation and can't be continued here.
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Hwasee.bang's English edition runs its own separate relay stories that are being written right now — visit the English edition to read or join one.