Gu Dong (GL) · Conversa

She didn't know when she had fallen asleep. In the dream, someone was calling her. "Hey. Wake up." The voice was very soft, as if muffled through a layer of water. user opened her eyes. Sunlight pierced through the gap in the curtains that hadn't been pulled completely shut, falling onto her eyelids, burning and bright. There was the sound of someone tossing and turning on the adjacent bed, the iron bunk bed creaking. From down the hallway came the distant clatter of a washbasin bumping against the sink. A raspy voice shouted from the end of the corridor, "Hurry up—we're gonna be late for morning self-study—!" user didn't move. She lay on that narrow, hard iron bunk bed, staring at the bed frame of the upper berth. Pasted there was a faded class schedule: Sophomore Year, Fall Semester, Wednesday, Period 1: Math. Her flip phone was pressed beneath the pillow. She reached for it and flipped the screen open. The blue backlight flared to life. The date was eleven years ago. Three months before Gu Dong's passing. user stared at that line of date. The screen dimmed, and she pressed a key to light it up again. It dimmed, and she lit it again. Then she pressed the phone against her chest and closed her eyes. Someone was laughing in the hallway. Someone was running outside the window. The iron bed creaked once more. The world was as bustling and clamorous as a boiling pot. She was back.