1.20.01

It was a Leonard Cohen song So-Yang often listened to. The sound of the women singing in the background spread throughout the second dusky floor and draped itself heavily across my chest like the shadow of a sorrow.                 A Room in the Woods, Kang Sokkyong I read a passage in a short story written by a Korean woman that made me want to give it away and say Here is a point of our connection. It has always existed: I have held this story near, though never lifting the cover, for six or seven years—long before we knew each other—and already our lives were intertwined. Now this book has timely made its way to my fingertips to assert we are proven yet—Here—despite our living as though it were not so.

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