It is nothing but a drowsy afternoon. Sun is shining in lazily through a half-shaded window. The curtain's been drawn back for light. Dust particles in the air clearly visible. The air is so thick with dust that to breathe in, you are drinking in a drought of dust.

I haven't opened the window in a while. The sun stings once you open the window.

You'll need the shaded window to stand the sun in this country.

That is not the only thing that stings. The temperature outside is cold. It's 10 degrees celsius.

To open the window now is to be stung by sun and the chilly wind which blows all afternoon.

Laying siege to my house relentless through the night, through the day.

There's a trail of smoke lazily climbing up my wall. It drifts up like a cobra lured by a flute, then dissipates as it nears the ceiling, sucked out by a fan which has lost its ability to purify air, with dust clinging to the fan and the filter like wet wool. I haven't been out in a while. I am running low on groceries. I finished my last can of soup and the last bottle of soju last night.

I should really get up. If anything, I should start heading out. I have forgotten how many hours I've spent on my couch. I sleep, read, watch TV, eat and god knows what else on this second hand, worn piece of synthetic leather and dirty fillings.

I had to sell the bed a couple of weeks back. I couldn't stand it anymore.

All of a sudden my left index finger starts to burn as if a hot iron has been pressed to it. My cigarette has already burned itself down to the filter. I throw it onto the ashtray which lost is function a while back. It's full. I need to empty it, but I don't know where.

I reached to cigarette case on the table. It clicks open, revealing its empty innards.

"Damn it."

I should really start heading out. Staying in this place won't do me any good. I'll only rot here.

My bones crack as I get off the couch. I lost track of time. What time is it? What day is it? How long have I spent locked up here?

As I was walking out, I knocked over the ashtray. It's quite an expensive work, made of crystal. ash and butts fly all over the place. paste made from ash and spit and whatever is splattered across the floor.

I'll clean that up when I come back.