one night in
The list of clutter in the living room grows steadily by day: books abandoned where she’d last left them, mugs in every nook and cranny, stray socks wedged between cushions and beneath the sang. It’s a never-ending cycle of tackling messes and making them. She’d recently decided to let the natural order of things fall into a progressive disarray. Regret hits belatedly, long after Charoen steps foot into her house, and well into the good twenty minutes spent hastily digging through the boxes out front.
“Aha!” A hint of chipped plastic emerges from beneath two old magazines dated back to 2015. At least the lid’s intact, though the same can’t be said for some of the pots inside. Ultramarine blue’s been worn down to the pan, and there’s a sizable chunk of vermillion missing. She makes a mental note to run down to The Islander this week; for now, they’ll just have to make do.
“There’s red wine on top of the fridge.” Jihae sets the palette down and fiddles with her speaker until Kim Minki’s voice creeps into the room, low and sweet. Satisfied, she straightens up from her spot on the floor and ambles over to the kitchen to retrieve some cups. “Feeling inspired tonight?”
@hscharoen















