-

Outside his roiling window, the rain falls in long dark streaks, illuminated only in the cheap yellow light that floods out from the street lamps and pools on the ground. The moon is clouded tonight, only half visible, the other half shaded away in dirty black clouds. Kyungsoo sits in his armchair, unmoving, while the cassette plays a scratchy tune. The fire is bright and lively, but he feels no warmth. He’s falling asleep - not really asleep but into that half awareness that always leads him tired and irritated. The coals burn down with the night into smoldering embers, into gold and red and orange hearts contained in crumbling black skeletons. Everything around him is trapped in a grey veil that separates stillness from motion, but maybe he’s just mistaken it as something else - something else that can’t be found.

-

A different rain feel.