The Clothes of the Old Woman Who Worked at the Truck Stop Diner

My mother ran a truck stop diner.

Every morning she'd roll up her sleeves and prepare food for the taxi and bus drivers who hit the road at dawn.

My mother, who worked from dawn to dawn.

I rarely got to see her face. Even when I got home from evening study hall, she was still at work.

We didn't talk often, but I knew very well that she loved me dearly.

Whenever she came home after work, she would always gently stroke my hair. Sometimes she'd sit watching over me and then fall fast asleep right there beside me.

When I was young, I think I hated it.

Her clothes and hands always smelled of food.

The tang of fermented kimchi, the smell of garlic, the scent of sesame oil.

The fishy smell of spinach side dishes left out a bit too long.

I think I wanted to pull away, afraid the smell would rub off on me.

"I love you."

"Mommy loves you so much."

The reason I never let on was the words of love she kept murmuring as she lay beside me.

The reason I stayed still even when I woke in the middle of the night was to hear more of those warm words she breathed out, exhausted from work.

Over time, that smell — all those food odors blended together — stopped being foul and started to feel like comfort.

After graduating high school, so many hard things happened.

My mother, who had supported me my whole life, passed away. The business I'd ambitiously prepared for failed. The person I'd promised to marry left. All the money I'd put into stocks turned to worthless scraps of paper.

Now I spend my days clawing at my matted hair and swigging from bottles.

How long has it been since I stopped going outside and started living in just my underwear?

My underwear smells like something no human should smell like.

Ah, when will this life end?

I desperately needed that food-waste smell I once found so foul.

That scent I used to breathe in while sleeping carefree on a blanket spread over the warm heated floor.

That fragrance steeped in diligence, warmth, and hard-won hope.

I wanted to walk into any restaurant, bury my face in the leftover food bin, and just cry.

While I was barely surviving day to day, some madman threw something through my window.

I live in a semi-basement, you see.

I'm not sure how they opened the locked window, but they dumped a bundle of flyers inside and vanished.

The curses rose to my throat — I wanted to grab the guy and beat him senseless.

But I caught a glimpse of the man's feet, and they were grotesquely huge, so I gave up. Was he like three meters tall or something?

Then again, nobody accepts flyers these days... I figure he was desperate.

I don't blame him.

Bloody Hound Express

That was the name of the shopping site printed on the flyer.

The day I picked up that flyer, I was particularly drunk.

So what I'm about to say might lack some credibility.

Since Bloody Hound Express said they could deliver anything, I told the customer service rep that I wanted an item that carried my mother's scent. I know — it's an insane request.

Yes, sir. Items from other time periods are a bit more expensive — would that be alright?

I hadn't even expected it to work, so when they said it was possible, I jumped up and down with joy. It didn't even occur to me that it might be a scam. Sometimes you just want to believe in something, you know?

Fortunately, I had recently taken out a loan, so my bank account had a decent balance.

I hadn't put it into stocks yet, so I could transfer the money right away.

Thoroughly drunk, I dumped every last cent into that sketchy-looking shopping site.

I must have blacked out, because the item was delivered the instant I placed the order.

I was in such a haze that I don't think I noticed anything strange at the time.

I opened the front door and immediately tore open the delivered box.

Inside the box were the exact clothes my mother used to wear when she worked.

I felt like I had become a child again!

I think I clutched my mother's clothes to my chest and slept for three days straight.

Considering I hadn't been able to sleep properly lately, it was truly remarkable.

The entire time I slept, I could bask in all the warmth I had lost.

Thank you so much, Bloody Hound Express.

I don't think I'll be using the site again, so I'd like to express my gratitude in advance.

More than anything, sleeping is the happiest thing these days.

I plan to keep sleeping a little longer, and longer, and longer.

Goodbye.