-A Cold Place and the Sun-

With a few bell-ringing crickets outside, I am listening to the mechanical steady whir, like someone is blowing her hair dry in the confined room. 

I put my fingers on the forward-jutting black handle and pull it toward myself. 

The whir fades then, mixing with the other senses that tell me the secluded world. 

I feel the unreasonable atmosphere around me. 

―Brrr. My bared feet appeal, telling the chillness from the bottom of the box. 

I am, however, still caught by the world that I have never tried to observe so closely. 

The world is separated into three grounds.

 The density, color, brightness, and the temperature are different from each other. 

Bowing to pressure from my feet feeling chill in the air, I bend my knees and take a look at the lowest place. 

In the darkish densest ground, the immigrants who are alike are requiring large spaces there.

 On the left side, the bodies with full of water, wearing an orange cap are standing like making a rank of soldiers. 

My eyes are inevitably drawn to the empty spaces with the missing immigrants that may have been taken away by someone.

 I imagine the disposable workers in our world and remember the cruelness. 

I put my dark notion out of my mind, and I shift my gaze to the right side, which has two flat squire houses that protect the sensitive inhabitants. 

―They are well loved― I feel relieved. 

I remember the roofs are openable, so I lay on one of them, in the unlikely hope of the inside. 

Now, however, when I open the roof, I see another disappointing fact there. 

I pick up the only one left resident, still covering himself with his breakable white shell. How miserable you may feel, in this wide space with lots of empty rooms. 

I say so in my heart and return the tiny round life to the original place. 

In the second ground with the brighter and the smidgen of coldness, I see just two big residents sitting like they are the gate guards of the world. 

They are lordly showing me their faces without any missing parts. 

The left guard lays down his long body with brown surface. 

Even though his body will be separated into some pieces in the near future, he will still hold his gold brown flavor wafting throughout the room filled with a family. 

On the right side, the guardian looked a little bit timid compared with the left one. 

It protects himself with his green jacket just like hiding his heart. 

Both of them are shouted in each hermetically-sealed bag as if someone is afraid of them whispering each other and means to muzzle their mouths. 

There is some light falling onto their place through the ceiling, but I still feel the coldness from there.

 In the third ground on the top, finally, I find the sun. The world, where I’m observing, still ought to keep the coldness because of their fate, but I am glad to see the light flashing the isolated world.

 On the ground, an eye-opening palm-sided immigrant who came from a southern land is laying in the spotlight. 

The temperature of itself is cold, but the observer’s eyes are intrigued by her beauty in red.

 I get a view of the three grounds in the world again. 

They still show the color gradations from light to dark by the sun on the top, but I feel they sympathize with each other.

They may know that they will separate soon and never come back to the same place again. 

I close the door. And I think, I hear the bigger voice from the inside.

※Don't worry. It is just an easy story in a refrigerator.