Great Novelist

Song's restaurant was quite deep.

As you walk through a narrow shaded alley and enter, you can see the potted plants standing in a row. The explanation from the speaker was that the planter was almost at the store. He moved as if he was being guided by a line of potted plants.

A slightly bumpy brick lies on the floor. Every time I stepped on it, I could feel a slightly bumpy feeling, but surprisingly, the ground was not shaking at all.

At the end of the long flowerpot, there was a store with a fairly luxurious atmosphere that was distinctly different from the way it had been. I was closer to the museum than the restaurant. I don't think a building like this would be ashamed even if it was on the main road. Why is it in a corner like this? It's so contrasting with the surroundings that it's mysterious. He looked at the exterior of the building for a moment, then carefully opened the door and went inside.

The door opened and the landscape rang. A gentle ringing announces the presence of the guest. The room that looked like a waiting seat came out first, and there was a couch, a register, and a big mirror.

It was a really big mirror. I'm replacing the wall. When you sit on the couch, you can see yourself in front of you. The wait time will not be long. Time flies when you look at your own face.

There was an employee standing at the register. I made eye contact, but I only smiled a little and did not rush.

Leaning against her kindness, he approached the giant mirror wall in the waiting room. I trimmed my broken-down clothes while walking. Im Hyun, the president, was also dressed neatly because he met the writer.

I might have laughed at the satisfaction if I saw him.

He looked at his whole body in the mirror. I remembered Im Hyun-do's work.

In the mirror, he asked.

Where are you?

He replied with no difficulty.

Song Lady's restaurant.

It was a good shot in a cheap promotional video. It was quite different from the atmosphere in his work.

The landscape rang out.

It means that the door is opened and someone has entered the store. He looked beyond the mirror.

The first thing that caught my eye was a clean posture. I was unconsciously amazed. I met a man with a straight waist. To be precise, you make eye contact with the target in the mirror.

Seeing the strange hair mixed with black and white, he opened his mouth.

“Hello."

The man had no answer for a moment. In the meantime, I turn around and look at the real thing. I stood still and looked like a picture.

“Is that the Australian Army? ”

He opens his mouth and calls out his name. It's not a coincidence, it's Australia. The words lightened my shoulders.

Only then did he realize that his heart was not beating rapidly, but he was nervous enough. Relieves the tension that was delayed.

“Yes.”

A smile popped out of my mind. Hmm, I hear something.

“Your shoulders aren't strong enough. ”

Is that a compliment?

“Perfect shoulder for writing. ”

It was a compliment.

The compliment from my boss came to me with glory.

“Thank you."

“Let's go in.”

Hyundai and Australia just walked inside. She remains silent at the cashier's table and guides him even if Hyundai doesn't name him.

After passing through the seats of several tables, I went inside and the room came out. The inside felt as luxurious as the outside.

When I sat down, someone came in. She looked about the same age as Hyundai, with a menu board.

The generous impression reminded me of a baby bear when I saw her. The cub spoke to him intimately.

“Writer Hyundo, it's been a long time. You don't like raising your friends' sales that much? ”

She's a friend of the writer, I think. Hyundai replied without changing his face or attitude.

“Aren't you here to give me the menu? ”

“I came to see my friend's face. And rare guests. A young friend?”

I saw him with a surprised look on her face. The appearance of a baby bear became more like a baby bear. She introduced herself with a smile.

“I'm Ms. Song. Nice to meet you."

As expected, this was Song Lady.

“Hello, I'm the Starship. ”

“Right. So, what's your relationship with Hyundai? Are you a student?”

She sparkles with anticipation before he even answers her.

”I'm here for dinner, but I can't find the menu. ”

“Okay. You could fit right in. ”

She can barely put down the menu. Hyundai turned to the Lord without looking at the menu.

“Take your pick. ”

“What about you?”

“He always has a menu. ”

Song said. Curious Lord asked him.

“Can I order the same? ”

He smiled lightly.

“Not necessarily. ”

I didn't know what kind of food it was, but it wasn't bad. Song, who was having fun watching the two of them next to her, took the order and left the room with a generous smile, like a baby bear.

The soup and bread were alternated with her. A few spoonfuls of silence passed by. The great writer who faced the table was completely shaken by the silence. Hyundai opened his mouth slowly. I caught a slight wrinkle on my mouth.

“Do you look in the mirror often? ”

Reflexively, I think of the moment I encountered with him. He thought for a moment and said.

“You don't say that often enough. But lately we've been facing each other for a long time. ”

“Why?”

“I'm writing your work. Mirror.”

Hyundai once again asked why. Why are you killing mirrors?

“I write at school because I'm a writer. I chose my teacher's work. ”

“Was there a reason you picked my writing? ”

“I chose emotion over reason. ”

“Essentially impulsive. ”

He was right. He smiled and explained.

“There was a teacher's book in the school library. As soon as I found out, my hand went off. ”

“Hard, isn't it?"

Hook, there's a question. It reminded me of a postponed handwriting.

How did I know? He opened his mouth without a word.

“I can tell by reading your words. ”

“Have you read my article? ”

“I read it.”

“How was it?”

He asked with a light tone, but I was nervous. I feel uneasy even at the moment of the assessment that I have faced.

“A little curious. ”

Hyundai replied at once. I wonder if it's good, bad, or funny, but not funny. In that review, I wondered if it was him.

“What were you wondering? ”

“Existence first. ”

“Existence?”

“Yes, the next coincidence of a genius writer. I wondered what it was. I didn't expect to get out so soon. I read that the content is also excellent. I wrote a story that was filled with emotions that I couldn't handle. Where did you get that? ”

Gathering time? Gathering what? You mean the material. I was a little happy with the compliment, but I didn't understand.

Hyundai told such an Australian.

“Mirror scribe. It was hard, right?”

The story goes back to square one. He opened his mouth.

“Yes, I was very impressed when I read it. So I chose without hesitation. But it was different because I was desperate. I was a little reluctant. I felt overfed.”

To be honest, it was hard. It was hard. I feel like I'm overeating. It feels like I'm full and I keep putting food in my mouth. I feel like I'm being forced into it.

It's no different than torture. It's as painful as starving. But it's not like starving. The feelings you feel are more of an exaggeration than a deficit.

His analogy is amusing, and his mouth is slightly raised.

“Especially more mirrors. I wrote it on purpose. ”

“Part of it.”

“The mirror is a wrinkle. ”

It was similar to how he felt.

“It was a kind of impulse and an experiment. But they hardly ever found it. Emotions are invisible, so they don't stain the surface. But the scriptures are different. ”

A writing that follows the emotions of a novelist. It is different from having your own interpretation as a reader.

I understood why he struggled with his desperation.

His impulse to hide beneath the surface was revealed. No, it was actually dug up by Australia. Sensitive sense of smell.

A deep, dark trace of what he put in his impulse.

“You're sensitive. ”

Hyundai said, he did not deny it.

“And I like the trick. ”

That's more like it. He knew better than anyone when to look back. It was a trick I had to learn to survive.

“Did you read that, too? ”

Hyundai shakes his head.

“I can see it in person. I don't know about this. ”

Hyundai was a horse. It was about coincidence.

“Coincidence, a sensitive and resourceful writer, wrote a book at the age of 16. At that age, it was a book of incredible sentiments and sentences. The story and atmosphere were excellent. He had his own personality. The people who came across the book were surprised. I'm beginning to interpret that phenomenon as a gift or a miracle. ”

But it's different when I see it. And he said,

“What do you think? ”

His gaze was downward. There was cold soup and bread.

“Digestive action. ”

He followed him to the soup and bread on the table. Earlier, his words were difficult to understand.

“If it's a digestion, do you mean the one that starts when you put food in your mouth and chew it? ”

“Yes, but the digestion I'm talking about here is not about food. ”

“Really?"

“Emotions.”

I met him in the eye.

“I'd like to ask a few questions. ”

“Yes. Anything. ”

“What do you do when you're angry? ”

I stumbled upon the memory of my anger. I get angry. I get angry when I get angry. I couldn't recall that naturally. Now that I think about it, I hardly ever express my feelings to others directly.

“I have a vague memory of being angry. ”

“That means you solved it with something? There's no way you won't be offended if you're human. ”

Yes, I was a person myself. People have emotions. As long as it exists, there must be anger. I also knew the feeling of something rushing up from my chest. Emotions.

You look down at the palm of your hand, and you feel your palm tickle when you feel it. I feel like I'm getting a signal. Every time I felt it, I did something.

“I wrote. ”

I wrote.

Meet Him (3) End

lim Han-baek