“One night, returning to the house, he went into his father’s shed. He stared at the unsold pots and the vases on the shelves, at their shapes and their designs, the illustrations of landscapes. He wondered what would become of… — Paul Yoon Copy Share Image
“Standing there, in his father’s shed, he knew that there had been, between them, affection and even tenderness. That his father had never been unkind. That in their silences there had been a form of love. But he had never… — Paul Yoon Copy Share Image
“He thought of these yers as another life within the one he had. As though it were a thing he was able to carry.… — Paul Yoon Copy Share Image
“For a moment, he was still that man, a boy, in that country, in that harbor, with his back to the years that had… — Paul Yoon Copy Share Image
“He imagined the tailor as a young man and his journey here, crossing an ocean on a slow-moving ship as he himself did. He… — Paul Yoon Copy Share Image
“One night, returning to the house, he went into his father’s shed. He stared at the unsold pots and the vases on the shelves,… — Paul Yoon Copy Share Image
“He thought of these years as another life within the one he had. As though it were a thing he was able to carry.… — Paul Yoon Copy Share Image
“This momentary bridge. The wonder of a shared memory, returned. Of a place once theirs and a life that had already been lived.” — Paul Yoon Copy Share Image
“One time the scent of the old man appeared in the air: some combination of tobacco and citrus and soap. It was fleeting yet… — Paul Yoon Copy Share Image
“Standing there, in his father’s shed, he knew that there had been, between them, affection and even tenderness. That his father had never been… — Paul Yoon Copy Share Image
“He did not understand how a life could vanish. How that was even possible. How it could close in an instant before you could… — Paul Yoon Copy Share Image
“But as he grew older he thought less of it, grew accustomed to the days lived. Each day he climbed the hill, as he… — Paul Yoon Copy Share Image
“It was as though someone, somewhere, were dreaming this and he had crossed into it without permission. Everything both familiar and foreign.” — Paul Yoon Copy Share Image
