The sky was covered in a shade of gray, the sun hiding behind the clouds and the world outside her window just didn’t seem to have any color at all, except the yellow lights illuminating from the light posts. The desolate emptiness that had accompanied her for so long was suddenly floating around her, making her feel nostalgic to the point that it made her nauseous. But sleeping it off or drinking it down with a glass of water didn’t seem to be the cure.

“Omma, mianhe”

A soft voice lingers it’s way into the quiet room. From the other line she could hear her daughter ruffling through papers and she heaves a sigh, finding every ounce in her to understand her busy daughter.

“I have a lot to do. I really can’t visit you Omma” Chorong sighs once again, shifting positions on her bed. Even just doing so made her entire body ache so much.

“Arraseo, take care of yourself.” She recalls the last time she’d seen her daughter. It’s been months. And Chorong can’t help but feel like her daughter felt resentful towards her. That maybe she hadn’t raised her well enough. That maybe she lacked way too much as a mother despite her taking care of five younger girls back in the peaks of her life.

Or maybe it was because she thought her father deserved a better woman than a wife like her.

It was the first fall of snow and despite the number of tiimes she had been able to witness this view, she had never gotten tired of it.

So Chorong gets up from her bed, her entire body aching but she ignores it anyway. She steps into her slippers and walks towards the window. Staring at all the snowflakes that fell right before her.

Everything was so different now. Comparing today to her past when she would spend an entire day jumping, dancing, talking, driving from one place to another, smiling and bringing smiles to other people’s faces. Right now it was so different. Her once youthful, gorgeous skin was slowly withering into dry wrinkles. Her gorgeous hair that she would change randoms colors to from a bright orange to light blonde was already a dull and boring gray. Her lips, oh her lips that were always plump and red were turning pale and lifeless, just like her.

She sits by the window, sighing for the nth time today as she holds onto her knitted scarf, closing her eyes to succumb to the tranquility of her quiet bedroom.

Chorong turns her around when the door to her room opens as Changsub walks in, bringing her a cup of tea which she accepts quietly. He locks eyes with her as he sits just across where she was and Chorong only notices then every detail in him.

His hair was black, with strands of gray sticking out almost everywhere, far from it’s soft, brown form from when they were younger. His face started showing signs of aging, having more wrinkles than he had yesterday. No different than how she looked now. Even in the presence of a man who embodied her husband, partner and best friend, even in the warmth of his hugs when he had spent his entire life with her, Chorong never looked at Changsub the way he would look at her. Yet he was understanding. He was loyal, offering his heart to her, though guilt had eaten her up all these years for even if Chorong loved this man, her heart could never belong to him. And he knew that. Making it all the more agonizing for her.

Changsub looks at Chorong, giving her a look she was all too familiar with. After spending 48 years w