Great Novelist

Piljoong, no. He accompanied the police station with his pen. When he picked up 3,000 won, the police looked at him with a look of insanity. I received a handful of candy for doing a good deed, but the pen put the candy in my mouth with a satisfied face.

The 3,000 won he took became his. If the owner does not appear for a certain period of time, the acquirer can keep it. Then the police officers shook their hands at the words of the Bible, asking them to wait for a while. After a while, the inscription finally put the money in the collection box. It was a fundraiser for children with ceremonies.

While watching the scene quietly, he rolled a mint in his mouth and returned home.

“Haha.”

Thinking about what happened during the day, all I could think about was laughter. Bible. I read his work once. The characters in his writings were all human. It was a book that empathizes readers and ultimately supports their success.

It was now a book that resembled a writer.

“You'd be in danger if you didn't. ”

It was dangerous. It was a strange sensation. I feel like I'll be swallowed up if I stop just a little. A huge wave approaches the back of the neck. Are you afraid? He is expecting it. His appearance was unprecedented. Clearly, his life was changing. His emergence of a vague future made him more versatile.

He hopes. The future of exchanging stories about each other's work with friends who don't have a plan.

In order to do so, you must survive the paragraphs. They are driven away like that and never succeed.

He grabbed the pen by mistake.

Why do people live?

He asks a lot of questions. What does it mean to live?

Before you think about it, first try to doubt whether you really exist. If people say they can neither see nor hear the man who is Lord from this moment on, they may be as good as dead.

I heard the sound coming from the living room. It was news that the highest amount of lottery winners came from somewhere.

I can't hear you. I can't see you. There's no sign of them. Can we say it still exists?

You know what, then.

“Somewhere in the world, if it wasn't for me, lottery winners are emerging every time. ”

That is, people live in the unseen. There's no need to think hard.

He convinced his logic to come up so spontaneously. Lottery. What would it feel like to win first place? He tried to put his emotions into practice. I'm glad. I'm scared. I'm angry. I feel like I want to live. Nothing touched my chest.

“It's not coming out. ”

He ripped his head off.

I glanced at the sheets of paper that had been left untouched. It was dirty. It was a stream of thoughts written down as they came to mind. Something that is not shaped remains awkward.

It feels like I've swallowed mud.

“Let's go outside. ”

He left the house simply dressed to change his mood and go for a walk.

I took a step. You climb the hill and cross the bridge. Past the traffic light, a neighborhood park emerges.

He accidentally went inside. There were children and parents. There was a small stage or playground for children because it was a large park. There was also an elephant in the zoo.

“It's been a while.”

The elephant, trying to get inside, only showed his butt to the people in front of us. A child shouted.

“Look at this place! ”

He bows his head as if he could even understand a human being. The child acted frustrated with his mother. The mother roughly asked for a child. She was nervous about her youngest child holding her.

The elephant never sticks his head out. Expensive face.

He went deeper. Unlike the outside, which was crowded with children, there were elderly people in the neighborhood sitting everywhere. It was strangely calm and slow to walk.

When I turned around the thin trees, I could see the grass. I went to see if I could go into the grass, but there was a long line. It prohibits human traffic. The more you step on the grass, the more it grows. I muttered to my regretful heart.

I stood in front of him for a while, then I had to turn around. Don't step on the grass if you don't even think about it. Today's not the day.

I tried to turn without thinking, but then I heard a sound.

“What are you talking about? ”

I heard it from the border between grass and the old man. There were still brown leaves piled up. I thought maybe it was where the USSRs collected the old leaves. Thanks to you, there seems to be no time to waste.

I still hear a sound. It was so thin that I would miss it.

He slowly stepped on a brown leaf and went into it.

“Tsk!”

The closer I got, the clearer I heard the sound. I can hear the halfway point. It didn't match my thin, weak voice at all. The more curious he was, the faster he walked.

Lara, it's a woman's song.

“Lara Lala. ”

A woman is wearing a guitar. She was singing among the elderly. Along with the guitar sound, I heard the lyrics of Lara,

It could be lyrics. From the beginning to the end, Larara was only distant. It sounded like I was making a noise because there was no lyrics.

The woman in her 30s looked ordinary and ordinary. His guitar skills could not be said to be as good as a poor horse. In short, the elders liked her song, clapping their hands.

Lara for a while. Or hmm. The guitar girl who was performing in the street, did not intend to go to the stage at night, and soon lowered her waist and thanked the audience. It was a professional posture.

When she stopped singing, the park became silent again. The elders also leave their seats one by one and only a few sit down. It's a strange sight. The wind doesn't blow. The leaves are still. The old man didn't move. Only she shakes down the stage.

He approached her, tidying up the guitar. She raised her head as she heard the popularity.

“What's going on? ”

The guitar girl hung up the guitar and asked. I didn't come here for anything. After he hesitated for a moment, she began to put the guitar back into the case.

He asked.

“Are you a singer?”

“No.”

“And the aspiring? ”

“No.”

“Is this a hobby? ”

“What about that? ”

The guitar girl shifted her head as if she had been asked a vague question. Fortunately, there was no sense bothering him. Rather, it was a somewhat funny face.

“I'm a ready-to-work student. No company wants me. That's why I play the guitar and sing. ”

“Is it some kind of break? ”

“It's hard to play the guitar and sing. ”

Hard work can never be a break, she said. Does singing mean so much to her to do the hard work?

Employment.

He recalled a scene from the broadcast recently. A panel of successful CEOs asked: Please tell us how to get a good job from your local school. He replied, "It's discrimination to be treated like a prestige school. They have earned the name of the great civilization.

The faces of the local job preparators sitting there were illuminated by the camera. Everyone was exhausted.People get tired even if they don't try. Maybe he's tired because he didn't try. It was a punishment that was less effort than others.

However, he wanted to ask the successful CEO just one question. How do you judge the amount of effort? Unfortunately, the answer did not come back.

The other girl got up from her seat after finishing organizing the guitar. She was taller than I expected. I thought it was big when I saw it from afar. I thought it was the stage.

“Why are you singing? ”

“I don't want to do anything. So just do it.”

As a ready-to-work student, she says she doesn't want to do anything. She thought for a moment and said,

“Maybe I want to say something. ”

“What do you mean? ”

In his question, she pondered for a long time.

“I don't know about that. ”

I don't want to do anything, but I want to say something. An ordinary woman with a guitar laughed as she said. Someday you will. I don't know what I wanted to say.

“Why is there no lyrics? ”

“I'm embarrassed to have an audience. ”

I don't know what I'm ashamed of after singing so well.

“Are you ashamed of your lyrics? ”

“Yeah, I think I'm going to get caught. ”

The question, "What do you think you'll find?" was swallowed up. It is also rude to ask a woman who does not use lyrics in case she is caught. Instead, he said:

“I do, too. You might get caught. ”

“Don't they all have one? ”

“That's right.”

That's how the conversation ended. There was nothing to say to each other, but the two of them did not leave. Is there anything else left?

She opens her mouth one beat faster than she asked if she would sing here every day.

“How was it?”

“What?”

“My song. ”

Do they want compliments? He looked at her. She was as annoyingly free of smiles as she was onstage. A expressionless face. This ordinary guitar girl's face is hard to read. He decided to answer honestly.

“I don't know, it's a lot of Larara. ”

“Of course.”

She was neither disappointed nor annoyed. I said as if I knew it would be. The question that I had just swallowed popped out of my head.

“You wanted to tell me something. But you're afraid you'll get caught? ”

“I guess so. People's minds suck. ”

In a strong vocabulary, he smiled slightly.

“When do you think you'll be out? Lyrics.”

“Someday. I have something to say. ”

If I find out what I want to say and get the courage to say it, is she still singing? He asked.

“Are you going to keep singing? ”

“I have to.”

Because I don't want to do anything, she added.

“For how long?”

“Until you die? ”

She laughs, saying so. It was a normal smile. A person can live even if he doesn't have the courage to say anything, even if he doesn't have anything to say. As usual, she left the last time she laughed.

In a space where nothing moved, he thought to himself.

What lyrics does she want to say and what does she want to hide? Whatever the content, it will resemble her. Normal lyrics.