The Sunday scenes

Two slices of two day old pizza and a sprite, service. Seven a.m. Hongdae, Sunday morning, the green chest men clear litter from the clubland streets. Two hundred some sleep inside on the hot heated floor.

Fifty more suck on coffee filtered cigarettes back at Tom n Toms, the early weekend unsleeping-rise. Upstairs opens at nine, in time for faithful full slept consumers to attend Sunday roasted mass.

A man parked over the deep breathers slips three hundred won into his video machine. The pixels cross their centre line exchanging blows. Another man, this one younger, slips behind the computer and says in soft English, “Sorry,” rolling out his mat.

Then he stretches his back out, tips his chin back, and closes both his eyes.