January 3-5, 2010

In and out of consciousness, Hyunsu’s body has refused to stay awake too long. For some reason, she had no power over it and she couldn’t tell why. What could be keeping her? Does she not want to wake up? Hyunsu feels as though her grip on her will to live has loosened and it all the more riddled her. It was like trying to clasp onto flowing water, no matter how hard she tries, it slips past her fingers, leaving her skin with nothing but a memory of its passing, cold and wet.

On some days, she hears indistinct voices and inaudible conversations, while she slept on others. They would say her name every once in a while but she wouldn’t regard them. When silence inundates her, she takes a glimpse of where she is, descrying the balloons that floated on her side and espying the machines that beeped on the other. At intervals, she dreams—or, she rather—sees her husband; Jongin poorly humming beside her, Jongin tucking her in, Jongin reading to her. He wears a deplorable, pale blue hospital robe and talks to her in a voice so soft; it was as if he was lulling the woman to sleep.

“Wake up Hyunsu.” He whispers at her ear as he fixed her covers.

“How long will you have me wait?” He chuckles one rainy morning while arranging the white roses on her bedside table.

“You’re getting smelly.” He grins, running a damp towel through her limbs.

Sometimes, she could feel herself smile, eager to wake up and find a