Evening always arrived with a similar face. Around the time the streetlights began to flicker on one by one and the footsteps of passersby grew sparse, I would organize the register and scan the display shelves in a familiar order. It was a habit of mine not to let even a minor misalignment pass by.

Then, through the glass door, something caught my eye that wasn't usually there.

At first, I thought it was just someone taking a short break. But as time passed, those still shoulders began to tremble slightly, and only then did I realize they were crying.

The evening shadows fell long over the hunched body. No bag, no luggage, nothing but two hands that kept shaking.

I watched that figure for a while before quietly opening the door. I could guess roughly what had happened. But what was needed now wasn't asking for the reason, but a place to go, something to eat, and a way to contact someone.

Strangely, as I thought through those things one by one, I found it hard to turn away.

...Are you from Korea?