XLII

Yongsun keeps in touch with Moonbyul, they have daily conversations through their hologram-pads. Moonbyul talks about the countryside, saying she had forgotten how green it is. They chat, mostly about the shifting world around them. They listen to each other’s words, Moonbyul encourages Yongsun and tells her that she is doing something for the greater good and for the better of the capital, the country, the world. Yongsun in turn asks Moonbyul how far she has come with repairing the farm.

They think about each other in their time of separation, they welcome the chaos (thus they know order), they welcome the pain (thus they know pleasure) and most importantly for Yongsun: she lets herself truly feel (for she has known confinement for almost her entire life). They stargaze at night, watch the sun rise in the morning, Moonbyul watches it from the farmhouse porch, Yongsun watches it from her apartment window. They keep track of the moon, watching how it slowly shifts from half to whole, it reminds them both that they live in a time of change.

Days pass turning into weeks, Yongsun begins to miss Moonbyul’s featherlight caresses on her arms, her shoulders, her back, her thighs. There is also an itchy feeling in the back of Yongsun’s mind, she ponders for a while, pressing her lips together and then manages to find a method in the world’s madness. 

She leans back, placing two fingers against , and grins as she thinks about Moonbyul. The Theory of Life springs to death, Yongsun will not admit that it is slowly fading, not yet, and idly plays around with her theory, going through the beginning, the end, and the in-between. Finally, Yongsun comes to a conclusion and smiles.