Story—A Cold

^{translated from the Korean by Stine An}

     They say exposing the back of your neck will catch you a
cold  Under the sycamore tree where a magpie was building
a nest Around half past one in the afternoon You told me
this while turning up my coat collar I remember We were
waiting at the crosswalk for the light to turn green Slower
than winter and as short as spring The temperature is still
warm enough yet you speak of catching a cold  You worry
too much  I say but I didn’t dislike it You said  I love you  even
though we weren’t in that kind of relationship The future
for a brief moment stills what comes and goes Such things
would be quiet as if dead And nothing would move Then like
an untimely sneeze a single withered twig fell on top of your
head In the sky where I gazed up on your behalf a thin frac-
tured light had made a round dwelling to incubate shadows
We burst out laughing As if we had really become that kind
of relationship That’s how I remember it