Reflective Writing and Poetic Musing by Condemiang + Stories About the World

The day after the loud, crashing rain poured down, under the scorching blaze of the sun that replaced the rain, the sky was so clear and beautiful, as if mocking the world. After finishing work, I rushed out of the office and struggled to get to the Han River as quickly as possible, but the heavy streets of Seoul, crowded with people and vehicles packed in like crates, did not allow freedom of movement. Inside the car, I was in anguish, watching with a heavy heart as the golden sunset wilted away. I like the center. Not leaning to either side—and sometimes, only once in a while, leaning slightly this way or that—that kind of taste. But now, the bridge that would hold such balance must be too dangerous, right? Sweating profusely, I hurried along to Banpo Bridge. The beautiful sunset had already passed… And yet— The traces of the sunset mixed with the clouds and the sky, and the clumsy decorations...

Where have all the trains gone? Those massive bodies that once thundered down the rails— their roaring presence is nowhere to be seen. — A car's thought — Where have all the cars gone? Those swarms that once flooded the roads day and night— their restless wheels are nowhere to be found. — A train's thought —