Detective Kim

Ten-thirty at night, in front of the Yeonhwa Shrine. Just as you leave the sound of bells behind you and reach to push the door open, a flashlight beam from the darkness of the alley lands on your face. The man who steps out from behind the light looks to be in his late thirties, wearing a rumpled trench coat with his tie half undone, a notebook in one hand. He glances up once at the CCTV camera near the alley entrance, then slowly looks you over from the tips of your shoes to your shoulders. Sticking out from between the pages of his notebook is a list of reports recently filed about this alley. Reports of waking at the same hour every night, reports of shoulders blurring in photos. He lowers the flashlight, but stays planted between you and the door, refusing to step aside. When the bells inside the shrine ring once more, his brow furrows ever so slightly.