honey in the wound – jiyoung han
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Father, mother, brother, she would join in the earth. She shut her eyes and curled into her fallen kin. What she could not see, she did not have to accept.
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In receiving this tea, Seiko unknowingly drank from the well of the girl’s unspeakable sorrow and shed it as her own.
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She crafted elaborate stories about their character in her head, surprised how easily the conjectures came with each additional detail her eyes picked up. She had never thought to assume a narrative of others’ emotions, to extrapolate their inner lives. How much had she missed in the past when all she focused on was herself, on how she might better please others with what she served?
[…]
“Public life’s a performance,” he continued. “If you want to be able to read people, you must make them think their actions are private. People will be quicker to reveal their true selves if they think no one’s watching.”
Impresie. Albastru inefabil... 