June 28. Epochè.

There is a woman walking around at night close to where I live. I see here every time I come home. She stands near the stairs on the sidewalk of the road that curves around the Namsan mountain. She wears a mini-skirt and heavy makeup that almost make her look like a transvestite.

I don’t know what that woman is doing there. Would she have fantasies about being a street prostitute, but not the guts to hang out in a sketchy area further away from home, where men would talk to her. I am just guessing. The woman walks back and forth on the sidewalk. She doesn’t smile at me. Her stockings are immaculous. I think she is around forty-five. We should not let our fantasy run like a wild rabies-infected fox in the chicken ren of possibility though. Maybe she is working somewhere and wants to get some fresh air after a long day at the office. Or she is divorced and copes with her past (Korean divorcees live a hard life) on her nocturnal promenades. I cannot know. This woman is here for a reason, that’s what I like to think. Hey, but I can think of a reason, that comes in handy. She is here to teach me to postpone my judgement about other people. Thank you, mysterious woman.

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