W. 5pm
1
For 25 years, I never once strayed significantly. In fact, to be precise, I never had the opportunity to stray. I lived within the schedule my parents set for me, and I persevered to meet the prescribed deadlines and meet the prescribed standards. The atmosphere at home wasn't bad. There was no violence or deprivation. It was just that I had no choice. My parents always said, "For your sake," and I never doubted that. When I was accepted to Korea University's medical school, my family quietly passed by, as if it were always meant to be. My relatives bragged about me, and my parents looked proud. I continued to live up to those expectations.
It was the same while I was working at the hospital. The days were so hectic that I didn't even realize how they flew by, and it was physically demanding, but I became accustomed to the phrase, "This is just how doctors are." The more I heard praise for my work, the more my heart strangely emptied. To others, it seemed like I was on a stable path in life, but I couldn't figure out where I was headed. One dawn, after my shift, I was walking near the hospital when I happened to stop in front of a small flower shop. The door was closed, and I could see a few potted plants through the glass window. For some reason, I stood there for a long time, looking in.
That was the quietest moment of the day. For the first time, it occurred to me that this life wasn't mine. When I told my parents I was quitting my job, they naturally opposed it. They said it was just a temporary hardship, that I just had to hold on a little longer. I knew they weren't wrong. Still, I changed. I moved out, started living on my own, and liquidated my savings. Opening a flower shop was more of an impulse than a plan.
Opening a large store was out of the question, so I rented a small studio apartment and renovated the front to resemble a shop. The first flowers I brought in were roses, chrysanthemums, and geraniums. I had no floral training, but I appreciated the freedom from having to follow a set schedule like a hospital. But reality quickly set in. Customers weren't plentiful, and simply keeping the shop open was draining my bank account. Thanks to my savings, I managed to stay afloat, but my bank account dwindled significantly. There were quite a few days when sales were zero.
Still, it was different when I touched the flowers. As I cut the stems and trimmed the leaves, my mind became quiet. No one told me to, and there were no standards for what I should do. I don't know if this is the right way to live. But for now, I'm living a life of my own choosing, not a life dictated by others.
Then the door opened.
The bell rang, and I instinctively raised my head. A strange man stood at the door. He glanced around briefly, as if he were checking whether he was in the right place. I could tell just by looking at his expression.Oh, I took the wrong road.This neighborhood is just like that. It's a decent metropolitan area, but strangely enough, people get lost easily.
During the day, it may seem familiar, but as soon as the sun sets, the scenery changes dramatically. There are many alleys and few signs, so once you lose your bearings, it's hard to find your way back. A single, illuminated window, suddenly visible amidst rows of similar signs and dimly lit shops, can easily lead you to open it without a second thought.
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
"are you okay."
“Is this a flower shop?”
"yes."
To give a short answer, he nodded once.
I looked down at my hand on the doorknob for a moment, then glanced inside again.
“I’m a little confused about the directions.”
“It’s like that around here.”
“Right? I definitely looked at the map, but it suddenly felt like I was standing in a completely different place.”
“Almost all first-time visitors are like that.”
Only then did he fully enter the store.
The door closed and the bell rang once more.
“Can I take a look for a moment?”
“Yes, it’s okay.”
He slowly browsed the display cases, then paused in front of a flower. He didn't seem to be hurriedly examining it. He seemed to be killing time, or perhaps gathering his thoughts.
“I don’t know much about flowers. I thought I came in for no reason.”
“It’s okay. It’s free to watch.”
“Then that’s good.”
There was a moment of silence. He was looking at the flowers, and I was looking at him.
“Could you please give me some recommendations?”
“Um...depends on the purpose?”
“It has no special purpose.”
“It’s not even a gift?”
“Yes. I just thought I’d leave it at home.”
His answer left me speechless. The words "it wasn't a gift, and there was no special reason" lingered strangely in my ears. Most people who entered this store had a clear purpose: an anniversary, an apology, or something they felt obligated to keep. "I'm just going to keep it at home" was rare. No, I didn't see a single one. He was still looking at the flowers.
“If you’re going to keep it at home, it’s better if it lasts a long time.”
“Um... Honestly, I don’t really know what’s good.”
“You can put whatever you want.”
"is it so?"
“But you might regret it soon.”
Only then did he look at me. His gaze, which had been fixed solely on the flowers until just now, slowly shifted upward. He paused for a moment, suddenly meeting my gaze, before nodding awkwardly. Without saying a word, I sensed that what he'd just said was unexpected.
“That’s a bit difficult.”
“If you’re going to keep them at home, I like ones that are durable.”
“The kids who are holding on.”
“Yes. The quiet ones that don’t require much attention.”
I pointed to a potted plant on one side of the display case. It was a green plant, neither large nor showy.
“How about this?”
“The plant is smaller than I thought.”
“Instead, it takes a long time.”
“How much is it?”
“As much as people do.”
He chuckled slightly at that. This time, the laughter was clear.
“Then if I can’t do it, I’ll die soon.”
“Not completely. Just a little withered.”
“That makes me even more sorry.”
“That’s why I recommend it. It brings you back to life.”
He looked down at the flowerpot for a moment. He considered reaching out, then paused. His words seemed to weigh on his mind, and he remained silent for a moment. He glanced at the leaves once more, then down at the surface of the soil. Not so much with great caution, as with someone checking for nothing.
“I’ll do this.”
“Exactly?”
“Yes. I don’t think I’ll be able to choose if I think about it any longer.”
I nodded and picked up the flowerpot. I moved it to the counter and removed the packaging. I briefly debated whether to get a clear one or a light color.
“How would you like it packaged?”
“Don’t be too obvious.”
“Because you’re going to leave it at home?”
“Yeah. I just… wanted you to be there.”
I glanced at him briefly as I folded the wrapping paper. He was slowly looking around the store. He didn't look as awkward as when I first entered.
“How much water should I give it?”
"Before the soil dries completely. Just check it every now and then when you remember."
“I should remember.”
“For most people, that’s the hardest part.”
“Let’s give it a try anyway.”
I finished wrapping it and handed him the flowerpot. He took it with both hands. It was a more cautious gesture than I'd expected.
“I will raise you well.”
“Don’t try to raise them too well.”
"why?"
“Then it’s a burden to both of us.”
There was a brief silence. He nodded.
“That sounds good.”