Yoojun took a spoonful of the rice.
His eyes met the woman's dead ones. He looked away. He swallowed his saliva as he ate the rice he could not taste.
The odour was increasingly suffocating. The strong decay and rot danced around his nose. He tried not to breathe through his nose. But when he breathed with his mouth, the taste of spoiled food filled his mouth.
He quickly ate a lot of rice.
"You must have been really hungry, good thing I found you huh?" The old man laughed. His smile was a stark contrast to the dark night.
Park Yoojun would have jibed back if he did not feel like throwing up.
He smiled in a stiff manner. His body was sweating profusely. He felt cold.
"You should stay the night, my wife seems to like you too," he stared at her. "Don't think she is being standoffish, just a little shy!"
"She has not spoken to me either…ever since she got sick." The old man mumbled the words.
These very words made Park Yoojun stiffen up. He realized that the man knew she was dead. Somewhere deep inside, he knew.
He had no idea as to what to do.
He breathed loudly. He stared at the man, who was praising the pickles his wife made. Then at the body.
There was a beetle on top of her left eye. The eyes unflinching. As expected of the dead.
He took the beetle, he stared at it, it was a beetle he knew from his farming.
"Oh good thing, my wife loved beetles, she collected them a lot during our youth!" The old man ate some fried mushrooms.
Park Yoojun gulped, "You know, these are beetles that feed on the dead."
The old man stopped eating the fried mushrooms.
He looked at Yoojun, eye to eye.
"What do you mean by that?" His words stumbling a bit.
"She is dead, that is what I mean." Yoojun scanned the older man, who had started to shiver.
"Huh? What are you saying?" He argued.
"She is dead." He repeated
"Who are—"
"She is dead."
"She is dead."
"She. Is. Dead."
"STOP!" The old man screamed. Tears in his eyes. He slowly stood up and sat next to his wife. He rubbed circles on her legs. Tears fell down his face.
"Please don't tell me that." The old man begged in a whisper.
"I'm sorry, but you can't live on like this." Yoojun mumbled.
"Who is anyone to tell me how to live?" The old man cried, he wept holding his head in his hands.
"Let me reframe, she can't die like this." Park Yoojun stated, leaving no room for objection.
"Let her rest." His voice was softer.
He had no idea why he was doing this. It was clearly none of his business.
But it did not sit right with him.
People always used to say nothing sat right with him. He grimaced. He didn't need to remember that.
"We should bury her soon." Park Yoojun told the man.
"No." His voice was sharp and wobbling.
"Please." Yoojun softened his voice.
"Why, why should I leave my wife all alone?" The man grumbled. Again and again and again.
"I don't know either." Yoojun replied after a pause.
"But let me ask you this." Yoojun walked to the dead body, "Would you be happy if you saw your wife like this?"
"Begging for your long gone body." Yoojun shut her eyes.
"Would you be fine if you saw your wife holding onto a body where you no longer resided?" He looked at the old man.
The smell was unbearable. But he guessed he could do this much for shelter.
He leaned against the wall behind him.
He looked at the old man. Who mumbled onto himself.
As the night passed he fell asleep. On waking up he found a blanket wrapped around him.
The body was not there. But the stench was there. Standing up he looked around.
"Son, will you help me bury my wife?" The old man walked up to him. Wearing a black suit and tie.
The tie was not tied properly.
"Want me to tie the tie?" Yoojun asked and the old man nodded in a tender fashion.
Yoojun took the tie, wrapped it around his neck, "Where is your wife?"
"I dressed her in her wedding dress. She had always wanted to wear her wedding dress with me."
"On my dying days I will die with a wedding dress and we will get married in heaven—she used to say that." The man smiled as he talked about his wife. His eyes were glistening.
"I wanted to do that as well with her." He pointed to his outfit.
"Yeah, just the tie." Yoojun gave the tie back and the old man wore it. He smiled, and Yoojun gave a thumbs up.
"Can you carry her? I don't want to drop her again." The man walked to the room his wife was in. Yoojun followed.
Yoojun bit his tongue but nodded.
As soon as he stepped into the room, the smell pierced his nose. He wanted to throw up.
He looked at the woman, the dress a little torn. It must have been a tight fit.
He slowly reached for the woman. His whole body repulsed. He jerked back a few steps. He bit his inner cheek, till blood flowed through.
The metallic taste of blood distracted him.
He picked up the woman.
Moving out of the door.
Her head was a little squashed. It reminded him she was a dead body.
He took her to the open room.
"I'll build the grave now," the man smiled.
"Do you want any help?"
"No, no, you have helped enough," He stated. "I wanted my wife to feel the sun's rays one last time!"
"Then I will be back in a bit," He wore his shoes. "Please don't bury her without me."
Before the old man could ask he rushed off. The gates opened and closed.
The old man was left alone, again.
His wife was his everything. Now she was gone.
Even back when they had been young, when he was stupid. His beautiful wife chose him.
Nothing was worth more to him than his wife.
He sat down next to her.
He leaned and caressed her face. Memorizing every nook and cranny. He removed her hair from her face. Placing a little kiss on her temple.
"May I find you again." He smiled, "In every life."
The wind blew strong yet gentle. As though telling the old man it would be okay.
Then the gate opened. Yoojun came inside, he was sweating as though he had ran over miles. He looked at the old man.
"I didn't have much money," He took out one sunflower. "We could place her in with her favorite flowers?"
Yoojun grinned.
The old man's eyes widened.
He looked at his wife, then nodded.
"I thought you didn't listen." The old man added as he took the flower and placed it between her hands.
"I have a good memory." Yoojun picked up the body.
The old man laughed.
Yoojun placed the body into the grave. Slowly and with some effort.
"She looks happier with the sunflowers." The man smiled at Yoojun.
"She just looks happy at the thought of you marrying her again." Yoojun mumbled.
"Maybe that, maybe this." The old man started.
"Maybe both."