Category: fiction

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North Korea

There were two reasons why the situation didn’t depress me too much. First there was the proximity of the water. I’d often walk over to the bridge opposite the Maritime Museum, where I’d lean against the railing … the water was as drab and impervious as the cargo ships sliding through it. Sometimes I longed to live on such a ship, although I couldn’t tell you why. The second reason was an obsession I’d developed for the other side of the street. It consisted not of houses, but of a long, not very high wall.