Great Novelist

He presented his manuscript, one by one. There's dirt on the scrap. The man stared at the messed up article.

“I threw it away. ”

“I had a hard time finding it. ”

“You can have it. No more business. ”

I'm quitting now. And he said,

“You need to wake up now. I'm a couple of years old, I don't have a job. I can't even get a license to put it on my mouth anymore · · · · · · · I don't feel sorry for my teacher. ”

He said, crying again. The fact that you have to quit is so painful.

“If you hang around somewhere for 10 years. It's almost insensitive, and at first it's anxious, it's anticipating, and it's repetitive. You lose confidence, you lose face. More bluffing.”

The man sighed.

“It's over when you're numb. I was finished right away. I couldn't leave because I had no sense of belonging. · · · · · · Are you listening? ”

When he finished puzzling and lifted his head, he was doing something else.

“Hey."

He quickly handed over the manuscript in a jumbled order, leaving the absurd man behind.

“Hey."

“Yes, one moment. ”

I responded diligently to his call for attention again and focused on writing.

“· · · · · · I can't feel at ease because I met a strange guy. What's with the ears open? Never mind. I wasn't expecting that. You're not a therapist, and you've listened to me a lot. Yeah, 'cause my story ain't funny. It's depressing. ”

He digs the ground alone and mutters, but he has no intention of caring about it.

I passed on the next chapter. Then I passed on the next chapter. After reading it a little, the overall content began to be organized in my mind.

This article was about cannibalism. People eat people. I let go of that horrible and cruel thing in a calm atmosphere.

It was depressing and colorless. It is not confident and has a bad face. Irritating and scary.

But it wasn't bad.

“Sounds good.”

“What?"

He asked powerlessly.

“Here. It's fun to get depressed to the ends of the earth. ”

The man had no words. He continued to read.

“Brutal and scary, but not harmful, it comes as a shock. So I can keep reading. ”

He could accept his story as the nonsense of the child who bought it. However, he honestly said his feelings.

“This is so cool and depressing. It shows the brutal human form unfiltered. It weighs a lot, so you'll have plenty of time. ”

He said, covering up the manuscript he had handed over.

“When it comes out of the book, I want to slowly read to the end. ”

The man remained silent for a long time. And I only said one word.

“You having fun?”

“Yes.”

He nodded and said again. This post is interesting.

“You were going to do this, weren't you? ”

“· · · · · · · Yes. ”

“But all of a sudden, I lost confidence and the world got depressed, and I dumped it here. ”

“· · · · · · · Yes. You arrogant bastard. ”

He smiled and said.

“You're not numb. ”

You feel no numbness. He is depressed and deathly numb. He's mistaken. It's too much to see the wreckage of low emotions.

He looked at the manuscript.

The saturation was low, so it was not noticeable, but it was definitely there. He could feel it.

“Can I keep this if you don't want to play? ”

“What?"

“You said you were going to quit. We don't need it anymore. You found a good one. Thank you.Please be careful. ”

He turns away, leaving him frozen. I walked at a fast pace without any gaps. There was no popularity behind it. He kept walking.

A short time had passed and many distances had taken place.

I can see the end of the bridge.

You hear voices behind you.

“Wait!”

He looked back.

“Why?”

This time he approached. He rushes quickly, grumbling. The black edges of my eyes were slightly red. He brazenly shouted.

“I never said that. Give it to me."

He smiled and asked.

“You said you quit.”

“Somebody stop it. I wrote a masterpiece like this. I don't know about you, but artists say this happens all the time. ”

I took the manuscript out of Lord's hands. The rough touch made the paper crumpled.

“Be careful.”

“It doesn't matter. I'll take it back. I'll clean it up and send it to the publisher. ”

He crossed the border without foolishness in a rough posture. He looked behind him. As he drifts away, he stops.

“Thank you. It's been a long time since I've been complimented by someone like that. ”

He shrugged.

“I'm just saying it like it is. I'll buy it when the book comes out. ”

“Haha. Yes. Stay tuned."

I had a new feeling on my depressed face.

He crosses the bridge. When his appearance was no longer visible, he also walked.

“I don't even know her name. ”

I wonder if I can find the book. He thought as he scratched the back of his head. A few months later, he found a book called "Sad" in a bookstore.

“Yoo Geun-woo from Yoon, Korea. ”

After reading the book, he found in his review that he was thankful for the arrogant man he met on the bridge.

“Ha.”

The sound of someone's sigh echoes in the crack. There were no snacks or comic books on the desk. The void was filled with nothing but gloomy silence.

He covered the book he was reading and asked.

“What's the matter? ”

No one answered the Lord's question. There was no laughter on their faces and neither was Barron.

“It's a beautiful day. Look outside."

“Yes · · · · · · · · ·. ”

“Birds fly. ”

“Yes · · · · · · · · ·. ”

In the spring, I answered with a dying voice. The other crew heads toward the desk. It was nice out there, but this place was creepy.

He scratched his cheek. There was a reason why the verse was always so lively and loud.

“It's okay if you can't win an award. ”

He comforted me. Seonhua said with a sticky mouth.

“What's okay? None of the doormen got hurt. ”

Sunghwa made a tear. She was used to good grades, but she disliked the situation even more.

“It's shocking. Don't we write well? Then why don't you give me a prize? ”

“Prize, Prize, Prize. Stop it, I'm hurting you. ”

“Give me a prize! Give me the prize!”

Instead, I raise my voice in the words of Seogwang. Seogwang sighs deeply. And I turned my head helplessly to look at him.

“You're the one who doesn't understand. Don't you deserve that? ”

“I'm not giving it to you. ”

I said it because I felt bad because of his light back and forth.

“This is a serious problem. Maybe there's a conspiracy behind it. A lobby, like a bribe. Isn't there a financier's kid out there somewhere? ”

I came up with a conspiracy theory. That's too bad. He said in a crooked voice.

“Baron missed the award, too. ”

“It's too bad, but it's a bit like having a literary enthusiasm for art, isn't it? ”

“What are you doing now? There are no prizes in the book, including you. ”

Baron shrugs. I won't give it to you. I did as he said. It ended up back in silence. You hear a bird outside the window. I can hear the shouts of the children. The corridor was quiet.

He liked quiet things more than noisy things, but this was an uncomfortable static specification.

I tried later, but I couldn't.

He got up from his seat.

Glug.

You hear the sound of a chair dragging. The children turned their eyes to the causes of sound.

“Why are you up? ”

“Find it.”

“What?”

He took a step instead of answering. Next to the chalkboard. It's where the paper sticks. There was still a lot of information about the other competitions.

“Do you want to win a prize? ”

He asked, looking at the paper on the wall.

“· · · · · · Of course. I don't write for awards, of course, but I want to ride anyway. ”

“Then find it yourself. ”

“What.”

He turns back, holding a piece of paper in his hand.

“Where to next. ”

He sat down again. I took a look at the paper I brought. It was a centipede in the park. This was the second contest in the name of the literary contest. It is not a pertussis with history and tradition. It was the perfect place to go lightly.

The gatekeeper, who was staring at him casually looking at information, immediately got up from his seat.

“Sometimes you hate it. ”

Seonhwa said.

“You, too? I thought I was the only one. ”

It was a grotesque thing to agree with her. Spring was smiling silently. The three of them quickly walked that short distance as if racing in unison.

“Get out of the way. I can't see. ”

“You're the one who needs to go to the side. There's your favorite literary parasite. ”

“I'm going somewhere else this time. ”

“Guys, just calm down. ”

He went out and saw first-year students standing next to each other. Seonghwa and Seonghwa were struggling. It doesn't even look that narrow.

“Noisy bastards. ”

Baron twists his chin and says,

“What about you?”

He pulls out a piece of paper from between the sketchbooks. The Sanctuary. It's written in thick writing at the top.

“I got it right away. ”

“That's you. ”

“Of course.”

So everyone found their own competition and began to challenge again. Thinking about what words to encourage the children, the teacher who went into poverty looked proud to see the children burning with enthusiasm.

Maybe teaching them is the right thing to do.

“Now, you have until 12: 00. If you don't have a paper hat, you'll need to bring your manuscript with you. ”

The facilitator explains. He yawns and listens to him.

After a rough guide, he turns over the paper next to him.

“The second literature contest topic is Teacher Grace, Travel, Fall. ”

Teacher's grace, travel, autumn. After the facilitator's words were finished, the children were all over the park. The time is now 9: 00am. The deadline is 12: 00am, so time is flexible.

He looked around and looked at the writing space. Children were already occupying the space with benches. I saw the adults who came with the children. The people walking in the park for a walk looked at the children who were writing curiously.

He went a little deeper. There was a long shade of trees. The rocks stand guard at the edge of the road. There was no one around.

This is a good spot.