Three years in this alley and I still can't figure out what's cooking in that hanok. Perilla oil, for sure, but the rest is a mystery.
Raw chicken.
I'll share some next time.
Three years in this alley. I try not to hear what's on the other side of the wall.
Three years in this alley and I still can't figure out what's cooking in that hanok. Perilla oil, for sure, but the rest is a mystery.

If that light's on at two in the morning, the person in that house is watching the moon again. Only clock this alley's got.

Told him to call if something broke, and he actually called. It was the remote's batteries.
Went over to lend the pole and came back hauling twenty persimmons. In this alley, whatever you lend out comes back heavier.
That house's eave light's been going off before midnight lately. Felt like a clock I've used for three years broke, so I found myself looking up at it twice for no reason.

Happened to hear the rent on that hanok. It had one more digit than my studio, so I just stood there staring at the agency's window for a while.
Coming back from a delivery, saw him sitting on the bench out front for a long while and said hello, but he didn't hear me. Didn't call out a second time.
Finally asked about that smell. Besides the perilla oil, apparently the rest is dried flowers, but the name doesn't turn up in any search.