[NOT WORKING]
[NOT WORKING]
[NOT WORKING]
[NOT WORKING]
[TOO MANY TRIES—-NOT WORKING]
Yoojun sighed.
The air caressed his face as the heat from the afternoon sun burned his body. But a shiver ran over him when he realized he might not be able to go back to his farm again.
He walked on the grassy lands. His steps were heavy due to the huge watermelon he was carrying. The old man had told him to buy the fruit. Well Yoojun himself had offered to do so.
As he walked to the house, he realized the old man had given him more money than necessary to buy a watermelon.
He opened the pale blue gate, a little paint sticking to his hands. He walked to the old man, who was sitting on a chair. He was looking at the grave stone.
"Should I cut up the watermelon?" Yoojun asked, using his shirt to wipe the sweat off of his forehead.
"No, no, I will do—"
"I will be cutting it then." Yoojun had no intention of letting the oldman do it.
He went inside, the smell of death remained. A reminder that everything has to be let go of. Even what you love the most.
The house was a traditional Japanese house. It had large vases and beautiful wallpapers. The game itself was from Japan. But all of it was dirty. The vases, the combs that still had hair on it. The dusty room, table, everything.
He hadn't noticed before, but the house was not clean. It had not been cleaned in weeks.
He walked to the kitchen. The tiles of the kitchen were wooden in comparison to the tatami mats on the rest of the house.
The wood felt cold against his bare feet. He took a knife and cut it open. He cut it into four portions. He took two plates and placed the pieces on them. He slowly walked to the old man.
"Moo!" A cow—-Posie, most probably, stood next to the old man. She looked thinner than normal cows. The man had been softly rubbing her body. And she moo-ed in happiness.
"Where was she?" Yoojun asked as he placed a plate on the floor near the sliding door.
"She was inside her shed, ever since my wife died." The man's voice dropped just a decibel.
Then he smiled,"But she loves watermelons."
"Sharp nosed." Yoojun snickered.
" Less of a cow, more of a dog." The old man said, at this the cow rubbed its head against the man. Who just laughed.
"Here's a piece for Posie," Yoojun took a piece from the plate he was holding.
He walked to the grave, "here's a final meal."
"The remaining for us two!" Yoojun smiled.
The old man hummed an old song, unable to look into Yoojun's eyes.
Yoojun ignored the old man's dilemma and took a watermelon to himself.
And soon the old man joined him.
"You know it's time to clean the house," Yoojun said and the old man stopped eating.
"I don't know." The old man mumbled.
"You do know, let's clean up after eating." Yoojun took a big bite. And choked on it.
The old man patted his back, "You sure are fast."
"The faster the better." Yoojun's eyes watery. He smiled but looked like he was going to die.
"It would be funny if you died from eating the watermelon." The old man laughed.
Yoojun coughed and spit out a seed., "It won't be funny for you!"
"One sneaky kid huh!" The old man laughed.
"I'm not a kid—I'm twenty-eight."
"Old enough to be my grandchild."
"Shut up old man."
"Let's clean up afterwards. I think for the remainder of my life—my wife would hate to see me broody." The old man felt the cold of the wind calm his rising body heat.
And then they ate in silence.
"Where should we start cleaning?" Yoojun asked.
"I want to start with her room." The old man replied.
"The sadder the better." Yoojun took both plates and went to wash them.
"The youth really lacks manners." The old man smiled.
The old man walked inside, he switched on the light. Closed the sliding door. And sat next to the blue hair comb that the woman had left. He took the hair out of it. Softly rubbing it.
"It's a pretty one, aint it?"
The old man laughed, "Yes, yes…my wife won it at a fair."
"She was really good at shooting!" He stated.
"Was she also good at everything else?" Yoojun yawned, he laid down on the mats.
"By no means." The old man chuckled. "She was a terrible cook. She would burn the house everytime."
"So you were the cook?" Yoojun asked.
"I did not know how to, but if I did not learn to, we would have starved to death." The man laughed.
"There were times when she would try to clean the house and end up making it more dirty." The man looked around, his eyes started to shine."She had the habit of getting lost in her dreams"
"She used to love sewing, but pricked her hand each time." He sighed.
"What about those big vases?" Yoojun thought they looked like something she would have chosen.
"Oh that idiot wanted to make pickles in them." The old man grinned.
"Why those vases? Are they even meant to?" Yoojun sat upright.
"She thought pretty vases made pretty bases for pickles." The old man remembered fondly. "She loved making pickles."
"One time we made so many that we had to sell it."
"What did you even like about her?" Yoojun wondered out loud.
"I don't know?" The man wondered for a second, "She was the most human I had seen anyone be. Filled with mistakes, filled with even more hope."
"She was the most beautiful person I had ever met." He laughed. "Even now, even when I die, she would be the only one I would ever want to have chosen me."
"Oh my God, you two must have been annoyances to the neighbours." Yoojun sighed.
"No, as you can see—open land." The old man smirked.
Yoojun leaned away.
There was a moment of silence.
Then Posie moo-ed, and both of them burst out laughing.