"When I first met her, I had fled from literature class and gone to a beach near the Bay Archive near the Yeashire slope. Her pink hair contrasted (?) With the sun (even though the image looked like unusual) and her silhouette took my breath away, was far enough away that I couldn't see her face (which I would later curse myself for wishing) - on a huge boulder that separated the Channel from the March. from the rest of the beach. ”I watched her body gain momentum until it moved toward salt water, fading from view, leaving only the hollow rumble of her body in contact with the water, my cigarette dangling from my fingers, and I exhaled the smoke. that accumulated in my lung channels.

    What I saw after that completely shocked me, so much to my surprise that my only reasoned reaction was to run away; the girl in question (who I later discovered was named Kim Yongsun) had started to drift away from the sea, her feet touching the warm sand of the beach, but what really caught my attention was the lack of the top of her bikini, her skin seemed somewhat translucent upon contact with the sole, clearly allowing me to watch the saltwater droplets roll around them; A little scared (not to say stunned) I turned my head, searching for the fishermen and fishmongers who spent their mornings and afternoons there. They were there, looking towards the sea, their worried features formed a huge unknown in my mind - clearly they did not see her, turning my face again, I noticed that the girl was no longer there, taking a general look, I noticed too, that she will leave no sign of her presence, and not even the couple next to me - a small family with their baby - seemed to notice a woman coming out of the waters without the top of her bikini.

       Shaking my head hungrily in denial - as if trying to remove some insane thought stuck in my brain - I got up and, throwing my cigarette somewhere on the beach, stumbled trotting to the sidewalk, not without taking one last look at the sea. swearing (perhaps by God) to have seen a pair of brown eyes staring at me from the dark waters. "

       Maybe I shouldn't tell this story, not even publish it in the university newspaper (where many people would read - or not), it would kill me in the end - even if deep down I already foresee the impending death within my grasp (if it wasn't she, the cigarette would do it); but right now, while I'm