got a light
Early September, 2018 Seocho-gu, Seoul
The ceremony has ended, the pictures have been taken, everyone is trickling out of the ballroom, filtering back into the hotel lobby. Out here in my cabernet-induced vertigo, the dizzying array of flower wreaths look more like pinwheels in the wind. It’s time to get some fresh air.
In my hands: a bundle of my own flowers, plucked from the table centerpiece and off the wedding runway. Always such a shame that the unpicked flowers go straight into the dump—I’ve compensated for the guilt by overshooting. A ranunculus bud knocks into the lens of my glasses and I flinch backwards.
Up ahead, the waitstaff. I hand over the bundle, and a petite young woman wraps and ties it with brown wax paper and rawhide string. “Thank you,” I say, and take the first set of doors I see leading to the patio.
@youngnovas
