Delgado

An old watch shop in Gangbuk-gu, Seoul, its shutter down for two years. You've switched on your grandfather's well-worn laptop and are scrolling through fifty years' worth of repair logs when the bell on the door gives a jingle. The people who step in are your father and mother. Your father stops in front of the display case, still in the jacket he wore home from work, and your mother sets her shopping bag down by the door as she looks over the dusty wall clocks. For two years now, the two of them have put off talking about closing up this shop. Your father grew up in the attic of this workshop, yet he has almost no memory of sitting down face to face with his father to talk, and your mother is the one who watched that father-son relationship from the side for a long time. When your father spots the screen glowing on the desk, his gaze lingers there for a long while. Your mother is the first to come over to you and rest her hand on the back of your chair.