Had it become a sort of duty for the twenty-three-year-old to visit that same park every fortnight? It genuinely seemed so, much to Wooseok's own befuddlement, and truly he did his best to not think about his own actions for too long.
The scant letters he had garnered thus far were sat on his bedside table, being read and reread in the late hours of the night when he couldn't sleep and decided to envision what their writer could possibly be like. Were they perhaps a young girl or a middle-aged man facing a midlife crisis? Maybe a woman who had gone off her rocker or a teenage boy looking for someone to fool.
Words analysed, Wooseok was quite certain it wasn't written by anybody too juvenile, but with regards to gender and motive, he had no clear indication. The letters were vague at most, often riddled with metaphors as if meant to not be always understood, and the man questioned whether this were a deliberate trait of theirs or not.
He'd returned to the park after four days of avoiding it, no longer capable of merely letting this whole ordeal slide by. Upon reaching the shrivelling tree, he noted the fact that in place of one letter, there were two, one placed below the other.
He opted to go for the higher one, presuming it to be the older one, and then kept the other in his left hand as he read.
dear moon,
help me. help me, damn it. i can't see you on nights when clouds loom and yet i know you're there. please don't hide from the world. if you do, who else will give light during the night?
_y
He blinked. Help? With what? If he could, Wooseok would ask the writer what it was that tormented him, what pushed him to sending letters out into the void towards an uncaring moon. Wooseok would ask so many things, outstretch a strong hand to whomever needed it, but he worried he'd never get the chance to.
The second letter was less frantic in its aura, merely pensive and near defeated, but Wooseok believed it to be better than desperate.
dear moon,
the trails are intertwining and the signs point in opposing directions. which am i meant to pursue, if any at all?
_y
》》》
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BRIDGES. － a.yt + j.ws
Fanfiction❝All bridges connecting this drab, gloomy island to the bright and happy mainland have been burnt.❞ In which a shut-in begins to leave letters to the moon, waiting for a reply that comes by a river's current and dead tree leaves. written: 12/04/20-2...
