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Their Last Visitor

Their Last Visitor Writer in Focus: by Kim Young-ha Translated by Dafna Zur her pink rubber gloves. Between there and the living room was a walnut-colored table that barely seated two. Chngsu was bent over his work, his back to her. "Don't bother. He won't be staying long." Chngsu wiped the back of his gloved hand across his sweaty forehead. Yngsn dried the kitchen counter with a dishcloth. She looked over the sink out the window. Stray cats sometimes prowled along the windowsill and stared into their basement apartment. Yngsn liked to toss them scraps of leftover fish. For some reason, though, their visits had become less frequent. Chngsu rinsed his narrow paintbrush in a bowl of water. Yngsn picked up the container, emptied it into the toilet, and refilled it with fresh water. "Of all days, why the hell does he have to come today? And at this hour?" The television in the living room showed masses of curious spectators swarming toward Chongno to watch the ceremonial striking of the bell in the Poshin Pavilion that rings in the New Year. "He's probably just curious." "A pair of night owls, the two of you. This year's going to be the http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png Azalea: Journal of Korean Literature & Culture University of Hawai'I Press

Their Last Visitor

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Publisher
University of Hawai'I Press
Copyright
Copyright © 2007 President and Fellows of Harvard College
ISSN
1944-6500
Publisher site
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Abstract

Writer in Focus: by Kim Young-ha Translated by Dafna Zur her pink rubber gloves. Between there and the living room was a walnut-colored table that barely seated two. Chngsu was bent over his work, his back to her. "Don't bother. He won't be staying long." Chngsu wiped the back of his gloved hand across his sweaty forehead. Yngsn dried the kitchen counter with a dishcloth. She looked over the sink out the window. Stray cats sometimes prowled along the windowsill and stared into their basement apartment. Yngsn liked to toss them scraps of leftover fish. For some reason, though, their visits had become less frequent. Chngsu rinsed his narrow paintbrush in a bowl of water. Yngsn picked up the container, emptied it into the toilet, and refilled it with fresh water. "Of all days, why the hell does he have to come today? And at this hour?" The television in the living room showed masses of curious spectators swarming toward Chongno to watch the ceremonial striking of the bell in the Poshin Pavilion that rings in the New Year. "He's probably just curious." "A pair of night owls, the two of you. This year's going to be the

Journal

Azalea: Journal of Korean Literature & Culture – University of Hawai'I Press

Published: May 1, 2007

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