The train has not arrived yet.The waiting room chairs are empty.I stand before the coffee vending machineand drop a coin.The hundred-won coin rolls across the floor,and someone steps on it as they pass.
The station worker looks at the old clock.Its hands stopped ten years ago.Back then I missed the last trainand spent the night on this chair.The lunch wrapped in the cloth Mother gave mestill smells of kimchi inside.
I pretend to be waiting for someone.In truth, nobody is coming.Even when the train comes in, I do not board.I only watch people get on and off.A young woman sits beside me,reads a newspaper, and leaves.
I will leave this letter on the station bench,like a letter with no owner.Someone may pick it up by chance and say,Ah, this person was waiting for me.I buy one cup of coffeeand simply leave it there until it cools.