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 story was written one sentence at a time, by many different people.
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.
Multilingual relay writing is being prepared.
For now this page is read-only. Participation happens on the Korean site, where each sentence is written and voted on by a different person.
For now this page is read-only. Participation happens on the Korean site, where each sentence is written and voted on by a different person.