send me a ✍ and i will generate a number 1-200 and make a starter based on what I get.
There used to be a shopping plaza on that corner.
A beautiful plethora of laughs, a quaint melting pot of genuine smiles and sugar filled bubble tea. And in the middle of the plaza? An ice-rink. In the summer, the cool kids, the teenagers and the scowling adolescents, would draw figure eights all over the ice. Squeal and give into belly laughs as they zoomed around. And the university kids from Hongdae would trot along too, cheap entertainment. It wasn’t a wide plaza, by any standard, with only seven shops, but it did a lot of things right. Sprinkled a lot of magic.
In winter, glittering fairy lights would be strung from streetlight to streetlight, bordering the square and illuminating it with a golden frame. And everyone walked in two by twos, and everything smelt of gingerbread. And kids, still, ice-skated on that rink while holding hands, laughing as the festive, albeit cheesy, music blasted from the speakers.
There isn’t a shopping plaza on that corner anymore. The land was bought by a real estate company, little by little, and now a set of tower blocks stands in it’s place.
This story takes place in a time when that shopping plaza stood, alive, and lit. On the night before Christmas Eve, a lone analyst (who goes by the moniker Keisuke), stumbled across the ice-skating rink and got fascinated by one figure, gliding effortlessly across the ice.
The following documents their happenings.