Kang was looking out the window. In the middle of the dark yard, something like white smoke was wavering. He pressed his forehead to the window and watched it closely. ‘Is it a ghost? Or am I seeing things because my mind is messed up?’ He muttered and squinted. It had become an organism, looking at Kang. It wasn’t scary or ominous; it was white and pretty, like a small Arctic animal. Kang opened the window. It stepped on the window sill and stood there for a moment, then stepped over the desk and chair and stood in the middle of the room, staring at Kang. Kang asked, ‘Do you have something to tell me?’ and Kang knew it was Kyung. Tears came to his eyes. After his lover’s death, Kang couldn’t sleep. He lay in bed, lost in memories. He regretted it. For hurting Kyung. For loving him so much that he had to kill him. Kang thought it was no wonder he was so deathly sad. Kang knelt down, locked eyes with it, and said with open arms. ‘Welcome home, Kyung, I’ve missed you.’ It didn’t move. Kang crawled to his knees and hugged it. It held still. Kang cried out loud and said, ‘I’m sorry. I thought you were going to die and I was going to die.’ Kang stopped talking. He tried to say, ‘Forgive me,’ but he couldn’t. It bit Kang’s neck, its tiny, fine teeth puncturing blood vessels and tearing his airway. Little by little, Kang crumbled. Until his white body turned red, until he felt love so vividly, Kyung didn’t let go of Kang’s neck.
