Love Before Graduation

The shrill scream of the phone tore apart the last fragment of sleep.

With tangled hair and half-open eyes, I searched for the phone—

like someone looking for an old letter that never arrived.

"Aira," it was Nami's voice—more awake than I was, "school's closed today."

I opened my eyes fully. "What do you mean?"

"Some bureaucratic reason. I don't know, a notice came."

I stayed silent. Folded a corner of the blanket—

as if someone had placed a cold stone on my chest.

"You don't just shut down a school like that..."

"Oh come on, it's a day off—thank God for that!" she laughed—

an untimely, awkward laugh.