I'm Waiting for You and Other Stories

by Kim Bo-young

I told you, didn’t I, that I once spent a few months alone in my room without stepping outside once. I think I know now. That wasn’t actually living alone. I have never once really lived alone. Someone cleared away the trash I left out for collection, and emptied out the septic tank. They ran the power stations and connected up power lines, inspected the gas valves and replaced the water in the cooler and cleaned out the drains. In another place they boiled noodles and put them in a dish and delivered them, then came back to collect the empties, cleaned them and used them again. I had never lived alone, not once. How would really living alone even be possible?