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Annyŏng, Peter

Annyŏng, Peter By Hwang Jiun Translated by Shanna Tan ŏngsu banged his fist on the steering wheel, the loud thud Y startling Yujin, who was gazing at the sideview mirror. “Why bother building roads when we can’t drive properly on them?” Again, he vented his frustration on the steering wheel. Vehicles heading towards the suburbs lined the overpass stretching to National Route 13 and for the past hour, Yŏngsu, Yujin, and Chinsŏk had been stuck in the trac ffi , inching forward only to halt again the next moment. Even Yujin, who wasn’t usually bothered by heat, wiped away large beads of sweat, which glided off the fingertips. Yujin turned to look at Chinsŏk, fast asleep at the back, oblivious to the dark patches dyeing his grey shirt as his round belly rose and fell rhythmically with each breath, threatening to burst through the seams barely held together by the buttons. Chinsŏk tossed restlessly in his sleep, emanating a fresh wave of his stale odor each time. Turning away, Yujin gazed out the side window at the barley fields, bare in winter save for clumps of snow, which had become a playground for the magpies. What a peaceful sight, it must http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png Azalea: Journal of Korean Literature & Culture University of Hawai'I Press

Annyŏng, Peter

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Publisher
University of Hawai'I Press
ISSN
1939-6120
eISSN
1944-6500
DOI
10.1353/aza.2022.0007
Publisher site
See Article on Publisher Site

Abstract

By Hwang Jiun Translated by Shanna Tan ŏngsu banged his fist on the steering wheel, the loud thud Y startling Yujin, who was gazing at the sideview mirror. “Why bother building roads when we can’t drive properly on them?” Again, he vented his frustration on the steering wheel. Vehicles heading towards the suburbs lined the overpass stretching to National Route 13 and for the past hour, Yŏngsu, Yujin, and Chinsŏk had been stuck in the trac ffi , inching forward only to halt again the next moment. Even Yujin, who wasn’t usually bothered by heat, wiped away large beads of sweat, which glided off the fingertips. Yujin turned to look at Chinsŏk, fast asleep at the back, oblivious to the dark patches dyeing his grey shirt as his round belly rose and fell rhythmically with each breath, threatening to burst through the seams barely held together by the buttons. Chinsŏk tossed restlessly in his sleep, emanating a fresh wave of his stale odor each time. Turning away, Yujin gazed out the side window at the barley fields, bare in winter save for clumps of snow, which had become a playground for the magpies. What a peaceful sight, it must

Journal

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

Published: Jul 14, 2022

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