““We placed her in her coffin the following afternoon. I tried to hammer the lid down, but the stupid nails were inferior and wouldn’t go in straight. To me, that said it all. As for my mother, she hadn’t enjoyed a single luxury since she’d moved to North Korea. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Had she experienced a single good day in her entire life? Or had her whole life been no better than her ragged work pants? Tattered pants . . . wretched life. Even as I carried her coffin, I mulled over whether she’d been granted a single day of pure happiness. But I couldn’t think of one. Maybe she could finally be happy in death.””
