http-yourfirstlove-com

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Fading Embers

The sky is overcast and gray, with thick clouds blocking out the sun. The lights were dim and muted, casting a somber tone over the landscape. The trees and bushes were bare, with no leaves or blossoms to brighten the scene. Their branches look gnarled and twisted, as if in pain or despair. The streets and sidewalks were empty, with few people venturing out into the gloom. The only sounds were the occasional rustle of leaves or the distant rumble of traffic. The buildings and houses looked drab and uninspired, their colors dulled by the lack of sunlight. The windows were dark and lifeless, giving the impression that no one was home. The overall feeling was one of isolation and sadness as if the world has retreated into itself and lost its spark. Even the birds seem to have flown away, leaving only a haunting silence behind.

I couldn't get myself to believe that this was the place where I had once lived, my childhood spent in this sad dump of a place where once it rejuvenated with life, I still vividly remember the neighbors I used to chat with over the fence, the local corner store where I bought my favorite snacks and the park where I spent lazy afternoons with friends. Memories of playing outside until the streetlights came on, riding bikes with friends, or having picnics on the lawn with my family. Now it's all gone.

I came here after 20 years, and the funny thing is I did not even think about this place once. I seemed to have forgotten about my childhood, those carefree days with the ones I loved, and now that I am here, all those recollections flood my mind. Growing up in 90s Korea was an unforgettable experience, now that I think about it. We were part of a generation that witnessed the transformation of our country into a global cultural powerhouse. Looking back, those were some of the best years of my life, filled with fond memories and cherished moments. Life was filled with excitement and adventure. The world was changing rapidly, and we were at the forefront of this cultural shift.

I kept walking on the roads where I once ran with laughter and glory and stopped when I saw a familiar landmark, it was a bookstore called, "Hye-ran Bookstore."

The same cozy and welcoming atmosphere even after 20 years was still very much there, the exterior too had barely changed, and the lingering smell of the sweet, floral, and slightly exotic fragrance of Gardenia mixed with the strong, pungent aroma of coffee tickled my nose. I took out my phone and took a picture of the bookstore. I looked over at the large glass windows beside the front door and no one was there. I took a moment to enjoy the beauty of finding the place I used to call my 2nd home when I was a child, how back then I used to sit near the window and read books when every single day. I reimagined myself sitting there and reading a book while drinking my favorite chocolate milk, laughing, and sobbing, and cracking up depending on the genre of the book. I looked over to the side of the door, the posters or promotional materials displayed on the storefront, advertising upcoming book releases or special sales were new but on the same wall which stood strong all these 20 years. The modest storefront and a signboard displaying the store name and logo remained the same. It looked like a typical bookstore from that era, simple and comforting.

I opened the door to the store and was greeted by the sound of a bell ringing above the door as it opened, signaling my arrival. "Welcome to Hye-ran bookstore!" A child no older than 15 spoke as he popped out of the desk by the door, I smiled at him and analyzed the store. The decor was simple yet elegant, with wooden shelves and floors, and perhaps a few comfortable chairs or couches scattered throughout for customers to sit and read. The walls were adorned with posters of famous authors and quote about the love of reading. Not much of a change, I reckon. The store was filled with shelves upon shelves of books, with a wide variety of genres and topics available. There was a distinct smell of paper and ink in the air, mixed with the scent of coffee or tea brewing in a small cafe area with a hint of the Gardenia flowers. It was pretty much the same, as it was before I left this place.

I heard the bell ring again which meant someone else had also come inside, "Is everything alright?" A voice, so familiar yet unfamiliar. Warm and comforting with a hint of age and wisdom. It had a slightly raspy quality as if the person has spoken many words throughout their life. This voice had a subtle accent that remind me of a particular person from my past.

to be continued...?