loose ends
@yhpsh
(2-3 months prior)
she's reached a point in her life where there's nothing left to run from: no more proverbial monsters under the bed, adolescent insecurities, the uncertainty that plagues most after; reduced to nothing but bygones and the fine dust that settles in memory of such things. momentum is meant for the present tense anyway, to push yourself forward and onward.
naturally, there was no reason to think much else of it. the apartment next to hers, which had been vacant since a plump, middle-aged novelist had moved out and back to seoul, had been in the process of being reoccupied for the past week and a half. a face of a tenant she’s yet to see, but has already conjured up a mental image of from the movers’ hauls—furniture, décor, and the odd art piece that suggests wealth, refinery, and origins that are rooted far beyond yunhwa.
she keeps it simple, a bottle of ginseng wine from some local distillery and a card with words of welcome. had worked like a charm for the last eccentric, well-off spinsterly neighbor, so might as well.
once at the door, she gives it a light knock, then waits. the pause that stretches after is long enough that eunsoo reconsiders simply leaving the gift there, but then the door creaks open.
plastering on a smile, she starts with what anyone would: “hi–”
only to freeze. the wide stretch of her mouth falters. what’s left of the spiel dies on the spot, leaving nothing more but stunned silence.
her grip around the bottle tightens. when she finally summons the energy to speak, her voice comes out far too small for her liking.
“oh.”