I rolled down the windows and grasped the window frame with my left hand, feeling the cool air on my arm.
Driving with the other, I weaved in and out of the cars that dotted the night streets of Seoul, singing at the top of my lungs.
The notes floated out of the window, and once outside, quickly disappeared, caught up in the rushing air.
But still it was hot. So hot. Not even the sweet smell of grass on the Han riverside could quench the heat.
It was as if the Maker had turned on the thermostat in my body and head, my heart pounding faster as I pressed down on the accelerator.
To get away. To plunge into the ocean and drive to you.
I imagine myself at the north pole, a polar bear rolling around on the snow. Soft, cool snow, on which to relish the look in your glazed eyes and cushion my lips in your warm kisses.
Delirious in external and internal heat.
Euphoria of the arctic.


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