There's a little man I know. I see him around so often. Almost everyday. As the tinkly bells and childish music plays. As the ice cream van rolls in. He's there every time. It's always him, handing out the perfectly domed ice cream cones, to the little kids, eagerly waiting.

Sometimes, an overwhelming feeling of sympathy rolls over me, as I look at him, that grin that's always on his face. Smiling at all the little kids. He can't live his entire life driving an ice cream van. He can't.

---

It's been over a year now. I haven't seen him since. I don't know if I’ll ever see him again. Whether I’ll see that genuine simile again; one where his eyes disappear. The sweetest smile I've ever seen. I don't know why, but I miss him. I've never talked to him, just stared out of my window as I hear the music of his van playing out. Every single time I'd hear that little tune, repeating over and over again. I'd rush to the window, to see his beautiful face. I don't know anything about him, but there definitely was an attraction. Something that drew me in.
Sometimes. I'd even see him diligently scoop the rainbow coloured ice cream, suddenly finding himself splattered in the face with it as he'd scoop just a little too hard. He'd smile to himself and brush it off.
He never looked in my direction. And I was glad. Glad he hadn't seen my face, my eyes that stared straight at him. Sometimes, I’d wish he would just look in my direction, but he never did. And today, as I stood at my window, idly playing with my fingers, I made the promise to myself that if I ever saw him again, I'd talk to him.

---

I'd never have seen it coming. As I was walking out of my office one day, I realised there was a familiar figure walking in front of me. The chestnut brown dyed hair, the small frame; that belonged to no other than the little man who had disappeared from my life for so long.
I was completely unaware as I followed him, mindlessly. I couldn't bring myself to talk to him out of the blue. So I kept a slow pace behind him. He just kept walking and walking. Every now and then taking a turn. He sometime hummed softly to himself, as if he had not a care in the world. His attitude astounded me. How could someone live as if they had no troubles?
And as I pondered, living in a world of my own thoughts, he suddenly stopped. Bewildered as to why, he would have any reason to stop walking, I realised he had stopped in front of my house.
Oblivious to what he was doing, I absentmindedly stepped up to my door, inserting the key and closed the door behind me.

---

I'd have thought it was a dream; that I had been imagining his existence. But I was so sure he was real. That he wasn't part if my imagination.
I'm not sure what drive me on, but it did. And found myself living through days and months hoping to see him again.
And perhaps, my wish had finally come true. As one day in the morning, I found him in the middle of nowhere. Or nowhere at least in my world. But standing there, opposite the road to me, his very presence made me hold my breathe.
The man turned green, and before I could do anything to compose myself, I found myself walking up to him, meeting him halfway, mumbling out a 'hey'.
The honking of cars was muted as my mind drifted away from reality.

But it all happened too fast.

--

It was my fault I was now standing outside a hospital, my eyes red and swollen from crying. I clutched the small, faded notebook in my hands. Holding it up for me to see. I read out the two words engraved on it.

"Moon Jongup."

❝ Author's Note❞