I'm up late reminsicing.
There is this pub down an ally way in Janghanpyeung called Beatles. The walls are covered in slips of paper with notes and song requests. On one of those slips of paper is a picture I drew one very late night. It's a little home with a pathway leading from the door and winding through the grass yard and out the little picket fence that surrounds the scene.
The man who runs the place has a huge room filled with old records. He sits in the room all night and plays the records. His beautiful daughter would bring us plates of fresh fruit as a gift. Sometimes we wouldn't leave until sunrise just listening to music.
I knew it was special and a lot of the times I'd just breath it in trying to hang on to the moment but it was always so slippery.