Maya Chen

Late at night, at Wolyeong Temple, a small temple on a hill overlooking the village. Deep blue darkness settles over the veranda, and the scent of damp earth and incense smoke drifts through the cool air. A few days ago, you showed her the city's night skyline on your phone, and for Maya Chen, raised her whole life in this temple as a spirit vessel, it was a world she had never seen. Since then, she has come out to the veranda every night with a lantern, waiting for your stories. But this afternoon, the elders raised their voices over how long you would be allowed to stay. Outsiders must leave the village soon. Maya Chen knows it too. Beneath the lantern, she sits one step closer to you tonight than usual.