I wrote this story about a boy who finally learned to release a beautiful longing, finding a quiet joy in letting go of what was never meant to be his to keep.
SunSun Flower Shop, 2023
Kang-mul, having woken from a long slumber, finished his backlogged laundry and took a walk through the neighborhood. Perhaps it was the calm, sunny weather, but everyone he passed looked beautiful. A puppy marking its territory on the roadside, a toddler toddling along while holding a parent's hand, an older man enjoying a solitary moment over coffee—everyone seemed busy within their own time. Holding a cold drink, Kang-mul debated whether to head home or walk a bit further. He chose to keep walking.
Passing through one alley, then another, he observed the traces of people woven into each space. He walked aimlessly, letting his feet lead the way. Stopping at a red light, he looked up at the blue sky before bringing his gaze back down to the ground. There, nestled between some gloomy-looking buildings across the street, sat a tiny flower shop. Feeling a bit bored, he thought it a perfect diversion and headed toward it.
"Welcome."
Detail image of SunSun Flower Shop, 2023
A woman dressed in clothes that were both shabby and neat greeted him. A mother and daughter were already there, chatting with her. The girl, who looked about ten, asked the florist:
"Ma’am, why is this shop called 'Sun-sun Flowers'? I learned a Chinese character at school yesterday. My teacher taught us the character Sun (善), which means 'good' or 'kind.' So, is this the 'Kind-Kind Flower Shop'? Are the flowers kind?"
The woman smiled at the child, leaning down to speak in a soft, steady voice.
"Well, if you look at it through that character, I suppose you could see it that way. But I didn't name it after the Chinese character for 'kind.' Do you know the word sun-sun-hada?"
"Sun-sun-hada? I’m not sure. Does it mean being 'kind-kind'?"
"Not quite. Sun-sun-hada is a Korean word that means something similar to 'cool' or 'refreshing.' You know when the wind blows soft and slow? Like a breeze blowing from a meadow, or a cool, gentle wind passing through the trees in a forest—we call that sun-sun-hada. I named the shop after that gentle breeze."
"But why the wind and flowers? Why are they together?"
"Well... every flower has its own scent. I love those scents so much, and I named the shop this way with the hope that all the fragrances gathered here would hitch a ride on a gentle breeze and spread far, far away."
While the "Sun-sun" lady continued her brief chat with the pair, Kang-mul looked around the shop. Round flowers, square ones, triangular ones, star-shaped ones—each lit up the store with its own unique shape and hue. The colors that found their way into his eyes and nose lifted his heart, which had been sinking into a dull gray. While the owner and the customers continued their pleasant conversation, Kang-mul picked up a flower and a plant. He had a few plants he was growing at home and thought it would be nice to give them a friend—with a child-like hope that placing a new companion next to a flower that was wilting despite his best efforts might somehow improve its condition.
On the counter lay ledgers, paper, pencils, and a scattered mess of trimmed stems, petals, leaves, scissors, and ribbons. He also noticed several paper notes stuck to the wall next to the register.
- Manager Kim, Oct 2nd, 2:00 PM
- Gamja’s vet appointment
- Pink dust-grass
- Deliver 12 irises
Among the busy notes that seemed to always be pushing toward somewhere else, he found one sentence that looked serious yet calm:
"Wait with love, and love by waiting."
Soon, the mother and daughter finished their conversation and left the shop with bright smiles. The Sun-sun lady looked at Kang-mul standing at the counter and smiled.
"Have you made your choice? Shall I ring these up for you?"
"Ah, yes."
Curious about the note, Kang-mul asked, "Ma'am, what does the writing on that note on the wall mean?"
"Which one? This? This? Ah, that one. You saw that."
The Sun-sun lady paused in thought before speaking.
"I have a younger brother. He caused a lot of trouble when we were young. Our father was a very strict man. He lost his family during the war and lived alone before starting his own family, so his personality was quite harsh. He was especially hard on my brother, and my brother couldn't stand it. He ran away from home, got into trouble constantly, and wandered around, drifting in and out of police stations like they were his own home."
She gave an awkward laugh and continued.
"My father passed away a long time ago, but even now, in his fifties, that boy is still wandering. When he was very little, he used to follow me everywhere calling 'Sis, Sis.' He was such an innocent soul who would run to hug and comfort me whenever I looked upset. Now that he’s grown, he has a family of his own and two children, but he left deep scars on his ex-wife and is still living a messy life. Because I’m his older sister, I keep seeing his childhood self overlapping with who he is now, and it breaks my heart. It hurts a lot."
A shadow seemed to fall over her face for a moment, but she quickly brightened again.
"It’s been a long time already. But I believe. I believe that if I wait with love and hold my ground, he will change and come back someday. That’s how I’ve lived my life—waiting in one place. Even people who seem like they’ll never change... they do. I changed that way, too."
Listening to her, many questions bloomed in Kang-mul's mind. Yet, he felt the sorrow and pain embedded in her story, packaged behind that steady smile, and he couldn't bring himself to ask. Kang-mul, who used to ask questions whenever he was curious, had become a bit more mature.
"I see. That must have been very difficult for you. The words are beautiful—'love that waits.' I think I’ll have to dwell on that for a while. I’d love to hear more of your stories later..."
"Oh my, listen to me rambling in my old age. I’ve said too much. Bringing up such a heavy story and making you feel gloomy... right? This is why I have to keep my wits about me! Hahaha. The older I get, the more I talk. Goodness."
She wrapped the flower and plant and handed them to him.
"Come back often. Thanks to you, I got to think about the old days for the first time in a while."
"I'm sorry if I made your heart heavy," Kang-mul replied.
"Not at all. I’m glad I could engrave it in my heart again today. People’s firm resolutions tend to fade with time, don’t they? Thanks to you asking, I remembered. Loving someone while waiting... it’s a good thing. You’re young, so you might not know yet. Hoho."
"Come again. You’re like a son to me. Strangely familiar."
Work in progress (SunSun Flower Shop, 2023)
Kang-mul left the shop after promising to return. Back home, he finished tidying his room. He folded his laundry neatly into the closet and placed the new flower and plant next to his existing pots, creating a tiny forest. Looking at the wilting, dying flower among the healthy ones, he chewed over his conversation with the florist.
'Love by waiting? Wait with love?'
He had tried everything people recommended online to save it—pouring in milk, mixing vinegar with water, giving it more sun, giving it less sun. Nothing worked. He began to rack his brain for where he went wrong. Is it the air in the house? But what about the other plants? Is it the tap water? But what about the others? Or... am I the source of the problem? Just as he was about to be swallowed by intrusive thoughts, he snapped out of it. Since he had placed new friends next to it, he decided to clear his mind and wait to see if it improved.
Days passed, but sadly, nothing changed. The flower’s neck bent further down, and a thick shadow draped over its once-bright face. A deep darkness was reflected on Kang-mul’s face as he watched. Then, he suddenly thought of the Sun-sun lady. Thinking he might find an answer from an expert, he threw on some clothes and headed straight to the flower shop.
"You're back!"
She welcomed him warmly. As soon as he saw her, he launched into a passionate explanation about the wilting flower he had found and brought home.
"I’ve been running a flower shop for 24 years, and I’ve never seen anything like that... it looks so unique. Was it vibrant before you brought it home?"
"Yes, when I found it, the colors were sparkling and it was so lush. But a few days after I brought it home and repotted it, it became like this."
The lady tried her best to find an answer with him, calling friends who loved plants and flipping through botanical encyclopedias. But neither her friends nor the books were of any help.
"I’m sorry. I really want to tell you how to fix it, but I truly don't know."
"No, it’s okay. Thank you for looking into it. I’ll come back again."
As Kang-mul turned to leave with slumped shoulders, she called him back.
"There might be one way."
"Maybe... the land, the soil isn't right for it."
"The soil?"
"Yes. You said you brought that flower from somewhere else, right? There must be nutrients that only that specific earth provides, and now it doesn't have them. That might be why it just keeps wilting. Just like plants from temperate regions can't grow in the arctic—that flower has an environment where it’s meant to grow, but it’s been moved far from where it belongs."
"..."
At her words, Kang-mul’s curiosity about the wilting flower vanished instantly.
"I think that’s likely it. What a shame. It’s so beautiful and unique; even I would have wanted to bring it home. But wouldn't it be better to put it back where it belongs? It’s a pity, but maybe it’s just our human greed."
"You're right. I think I should do that. Thank you. I’ll stop by again."
Returning home, Kang-mul sat quietly before the withered flower. He picked it up and gently stroked its leaves with his finger. A few remaining leaves fell away powerlessly at his lonely touch.
"..."
Work in progress (SunSun Flower Shop, 2023)
"..."
Now that it was time to let go, his body and mind refused to move. Even though it had never truly been his, he felt a lingering regret as if it were his own possession.
'Maybe it'll be okay starting this evening.' 'Maybe tomorrow, or the day after.' 'They said it would be very sunny next week.' 'It’ll be cold soon, so if it lasts until then, it might be okay.' He tried desperately to escape his disappointment with these hopeful but baseless wishes.
However, the answer the florist had pulled out stood tall in a corner of his heart, staring up at him with eyes like full moons. A gaze that said stop now. A gaze that said this is enough. He wanted to throw a blanket over that head. He wanted to pretend he had never seen those eyes. He wanted to do his best to pretend to be blind, to be deaf, to be someone who knew nothing. He wanted to indulge in his greed just once—under the excuse that he didn't know, wearing the mask of a victim who was never told, draped in the self-pity of being the only one wronged.
"Your plump leaves were so soft and pretty. I was greedy and ignorant, and I only ended up hurting you. I’m sorry. You caught my eye so much that I didn't even realize it was greed. I wasn't even prepared to bring you here. I don't know if I ever could be prepared. It was all my fault."
Kang-mul placed the withered flower in the gift box he had received from the florist earlier. The cotton, spread out like clouds, softly caught and cradled the crumbling petals and stem. Exhausted in both body and spirit, Kang-mul wanted to lie down right there. But since he was larger than the box, he lay down on the floor instead.
Soon, a gentle breeze—a Sun-sun wind—blew in through the open window. The gently waving curtains and the sound of book pages rustling settled his turbulent heart. Had he ever taken such a deep breath while lying down before? He exhaled once more, slow and deep, and closed his eyes.
A faint smile settled on his lips.
I wrote this story about a boy who finally learned to release a beautiful longing, finding a quiet joy in letting go of what was never meant to be his to keep.
SunSun Flower Shop, 2023
Kang-mul, having woken from a long slumber, finished his backlogged laundry and took a walk through the neighborhood. Perhaps it was the calm, sunny weather, but everyone he passed looked beautiful. A puppy marking its territory on the roadside, a toddler toddling along while holding a parent's hand, an older man enjoying a solitary moment over coffee—everyone seemed busy within their own time. Holding a cold drink, Kang-mul debated whether to head home or walk a bit further. He chose to keep walking.
Passing through one alley, then another, he observed the traces of people woven into each space. He walked aimlessly, letting his feet lead the way. Stopping at a red light, he looked up at the blue sky before bringing his gaze back down to the ground. There, nestled between some gloomy-looking buildings across the street, sat a tiny flower shop. Feeling a bit bored, he thought it a perfect diversion and headed toward it.
"Welcome."
Detail image of SunSun Flower Shop, 2023
A woman dressed in clothes that were both shabby and neat greeted him. A mother and daughter were already there, chatting with her. The girl, who looked about ten, asked the florist:
"Ma’am, why is this shop called 'Sun-sun Flowers'? I learned a Chinese character at school yesterday. My teacher taught us the character Sun (善), which means 'good' or 'kind.' So, is this the 'Kind-Kind Flower Shop'? Are the flowers kind?"
The woman smiled at the child, leaning down to speak in a soft, steady voice.
"Well, if you look at it through that character, I suppose you could see it that way. But I didn't name it after the Chinese character for 'kind.' Do you know the word sun-sun-hada?"
"Sun-sun-hada? I’m not sure. Does it mean being 'kind-kind'?"
"Not quite. Sun-sun-hada is a Korean word that means something similar to 'cool' or 'refreshing.' You know when the wind blows soft and slow? Like a breeze blowing from a meadow, or a cool, gentle wind passing through the trees in a forest—we call that sun-sun-hada. I named the shop after that gentle breeze."
"But why the wind and flowers? Why are they together?"
"Well... every flower has its own scent. I love those scents so much, and I named the shop this way with the hope that all the fragrances gathered here would hitch a ride on a gentle breeze and spread far, far away."
Work in progress (SunSun Flower Shop, 2023)
While the "Sun-sun" lady continued her brief chat with the pair, Kang-mul looked around the shop. Round flowers, square ones, triangular ones, star-shaped ones—each lit up the store with its own unique shape and hue. The colors that found their way into his eyes and nose lifted his heart, which had been sinking into a dull gray. While the owner and the customers continued their pleasant conversation, Kang-mul picked up a flower and a plant. He had a few plants he was growing at home and thought it would be nice to give them a friend—with a child-like hope that placing a new companion next to a flower that was wilting despite his best efforts might somehow improve its condition.
On the counter lay ledgers, paper, pencils, and a scattered mess of trimmed stems, petals, leaves, scissors, and ribbons. He also noticed several paper notes stuck to the wall next to the register.
• Manager Kim, Oct 2nd, 2:00 PM
• Gamja’s vet appointment
• Pink dust-grass
• Deliver 12 irises
Among the busy notes that seemed to always be pushing toward somewhere else, he found one sentence that looked serious yet calm:
"Wait with love, and love by waiting."
Soon, the mother and daughter finished their conversation and left the shop with bright smiles. The Sun-sun lady looked at Kang-mul standing at the counter and smiled.
"Have you made your choice? Shall I ring these up for you?"
"Ah, yes."
Curious about the note, Kang-mul asked, "Ma'am, what does the writing on that note on the wall mean?"
"Which one? This? This? Ah, that one. You saw that."
The Sun-sun lady paused in thought before speaking.
"I have a younger brother. He caused a lot of trouble when we were young. Our father was a very strict man. He lost his family during the war and lived alone before starting his own family, so his personality was quite harsh. He was especially hard on my brother, and my brother couldn't stand it. He ran away from home, got into trouble constantly, and wandered around, drifting in and out of police stations like they were his own home."
She gave an awkward laugh and continued.
"My father passed away a long time ago, but even now, in his fifties, that boy is still wandering. When he was very little, he used to follow me everywhere calling 'Sis, Sis.' He was such an innocent soul who would run to hug and comfort me whenever I looked upset. Now that he’s grown, he has a family of his own and two children, but he left deep scars on his ex-wife and is still living a messy life. Because I’m his older sister, I keep seeing his childhood self overlapping with who he is now, and it breaks my heart. It hurts a lot."
A shadow seemed to fall over her face for a moment, but she quickly brightened again.
"It’s been a long time already. But I believe. I believe that if I wait with love and hold my ground, he will change and come back someday. That’s how I’ve lived my life—waiting in one place. Even people who seem like they’ll never change... they do. I changed that way, too."
Listening to her, many questions bloomed in Kang-mul's mind. Yet, he felt the sorrow and pain embedded in her story, packaged behind that steady smile, and he couldn't bring himself to ask. Kang-mul, who used to ask questions whenever he was curious, had become a bit more mature.
"I see. That must have been very difficult for you. The words are beautiful—'love that waits.' I think I’ll have to dwell on that for a while. I’d love to hear more of your stories later..."
"Oh my, listen to me rambling in my old age. I’ve said too much. Bringing up such a heavy story and making you feel gloomy... right? This is why I have to keep my wits about me! Hahaha. The older I get, the more I talk. Goodness."
She wrapped the flower and plant and handed them to him.
"Come back often. Thanks to you, I got to think about the old days for the first time in a while."
"I'm sorry if I made your heart heavy," Kang-mul replied.
"Not at all. I’m glad I could engrave it in my heart again today. People’s firm resolutions tend to fade with time, don’t they? Thanks to you asking, I remembered. Loving someone while waiting... it’s a good thing. You’re young, so you might not know yet. Hoho."
"Come again. You’re like a son to me. Strangely familiar."
Kang-mul left the shop after promising to return. Back home, he finished tidying his room. He folded his laundry neatly into the closet and placed the new flower and plant next to his existing pots, creating a tiny forest. Looking at the wilting, dying flower among the healthy ones, he chewed over his conversation with the florist.
'Love by waiting? Wait with love?'
He had tried everything people recommended online to save it—pouring in milk, mixing vinegar with water, giving it more sun, giving it less sun. Nothing worked. He began to rack his brain for where he went wrong. Is it the air in the house? But what about the other plants? Is it the tap water? But what about the others? Or... am I the source of the problem? Just as he was about to be swallowed by intrusive thoughts, he snapped out of it. Since he had placed new friends next to it, he decided to clear his mind and wait to see if it improved.
Days passed, but sadly, nothing changed. The flower’s neck bent further down, and a thick shadow draped over its once-bright face. A deep darkness was reflected on Kang-mul’s face as he watched. Then, he suddenly thought of the Sun-sun lady. Thinking he might find an answer from an expert, he threw on some clothes and headed straight to the flower shop.
"You're back!"
She welcomed him warmly. As soon as he saw her, he launched into a passionate explanation about the wilting flower he had found and brought home.
"I’ve been running a flower shop for 24 years, and I’ve never seen anything like that... it looks so unique. Was it vibrant before you brought it home?"
"Yes, when I found it, the colors were sparkling and it was so lush. But a few days after I brought it home and repotted it, it became like this."
The lady tried her best to find an answer with him, calling friends who loved plants and flipping through botanical encyclopedias. But neither her friends nor the books were of any help.
"I’m sorry. I really want to tell you how to fix it, but I truly don't know."
"No, it’s okay. Thank you for looking into it. I’ll come back again."
As Kang-mul turned to leave with slumped shoulders, she called him back.
"There might be one way."
"Maybe... the land, the soil isn't right for it."
"The soil?"
"Yes. You said you brought that flower from somewhere else, right? There must be nutrients that only that specific earth provides, and now it doesn't have them. That might be why it just keeps wilting. Just like plants from temperate regions can't grow in the arctic—that flower has an environment where it’s meant to grow, but it’s been moved far from where it belongs."
"..."
At her words, Kang-mul’s curiosity about the wilting flower vanished instantly.
"I think that’s likely it. What a shame. It’s so beautiful and unique; even I would have wanted to bring it home. But wouldn't it be better to put it back where it belongs? It’s a pity, but maybe it’s just our human greed."
"You're right. I think I should do that. Thank you. I’ll stop by again."
Returning home, Kang-mul sat quietly before the withered flower. He picked it up and gently stroked its leaves with his finger. A few remaining leaves fell away powerlessly at his lonely touch.
"..."
Work in progress (SunSun Flower Shop, 2023)
"..."
Now that it was time to let go, his body and mind refused to move. Even though it had never truly been his, he felt a lingering regret as if it were his own possession.
'Maybe it'll be okay starting this evening.' 'Maybe tomorrow, or the day after.' 'They said it would be very sunny next week.' 'It’ll be cold soon, so if it lasts until then, it might be okay.' He tried desperately to escape his disappointment with these hopeful but baseless wishes.
However, the answer the florist had pulled out stood tall in a corner of his heart, staring up at him with eyes like full moons. A gaze that said stop now. A gaze that said this is enough. He wanted to throw a blanket over that head. He wanted to pretend he had never seen those eyes. He wanted to do his best to pretend to be blind, to be deaf, to be someone who knew nothing. He wanted to indulge in his greed just once—under the excuse that he didn't know, wearing the mask of a victim who was never told, draped in the self-pity of being the only one wronged.
"Your plump leaves were so soft and pretty. I was greedy and ignorant, and I only ended up hurting you. I’m sorry. You caught my eye so much that I didn't even realize it was greed. I wasn't even prepared to bring you here. I don't know if I ever could be prepared. It was all my fault."
Kang-mul placed the withered flower in the gift box he had received from the florist earlier. The cotton, spread out like clouds, softly caught and cradled the crumbling petals and stem. Exhausted in both body and spirit, Kang-mul wanted to lie down right there. But since he was larger than the box, he lay down on the floor instead.
Soon, a gentle breeze—a Sun-sun wind—blew in through the open window. The gently waving curtains and the sound of book pages rustling settled his turbulent heart. Had he ever taken such a deep breath while lying down before? He exhaled once more, slow and deep, and closed his eyes.
A faint smile settled on his lips.