Young-ha Kim

Is this like life? K wonders. My hand is already determined from the beginning. My hand in life is probably something worthless, like three kkeut.

I was forty-five at the time of my last murder. Looking back, it dawns on me that my father was also forty-five the year he suffocated under the pillow. What a strange coincidence. I’m writing this down, too.

Abiding nowhere, give rise to the mind.”