Bruised and battered, I’m almost there… FREEZE.
… But not quite.
“Old piece of shit!” a punk driver shouted through the window at me as I drive through Little Seoul in the middle of my journey, stating the obvious.
“Hell-looooo!” I shouted back, then wondered why. FREEZE (Dammit!).
I made the rest of my commute quieter, with streets empty now. It seemed to be the safest way to return home. No freeze.
(to be continued?)
Sunklands 