Paper Flower

Sung-gil's fingers moved with a practiced precision, his eyes cast downward as he tended to Jang Han-soo's deceased body. As an old mortician, he had seen countless cadavers in his line of work, but there was something peculiar about this one that caught his attention. The free noodle restaurant owner, known for his kindness and generosity, lay still, his body cleaned and prepared according to the company's strict guidelines. Sung-gil was one of the newest partners in a large-scale funeral service company, and he knew that the business was built on efficiency and profit, not emotional attachment. As he delicately stitched Jang Han-soo's face, a memory flashed in his mind. He recalled the countless stories his colleague, the late Soo-mi's friend, had shared about Jang Han-soo's humble restaurant. The restaurant had been a staple in the community, where everyone knew each other's faces and stories. The aroma of steaming noodles would waft through the air, drawing people in like a magnetic force. In these moments, Sung-gil felt a pang of guilt, knowing that the company's new policies, which prioritized speed and cost-effectiveness over dignity and respect, would soon render Jang Han-soo's restaurant a distant memory. As the hours passed, Sung-gil continued to work with a mix of familiarity and detachment. He had seen countless bodies come and go, each with their unique stories and histories, but with Jang Han-soo's lying before him, something resonated deep within his chest. The body was that of a man who, in life, had cared for countless others, often at the expense of his own well-being. It was no wonder that his restaurant had become a beacon of warmth and comfort for the community. Sung-gil's thoughts lingered on this realization as he finished preparing Jang Han-soo's body for viewing. The man who had once been a pillar of his community was now nothing more than a lifeless vessel, a mere commodity to be processed through the funeral service company's machinery. But as Sung-gil's fingers brushed against the body, he felt a lingering sense of humanity. As he made his way out of the cold, sterile room where Jang Han-soo's body lay, Sung-gil found himself standing in a crowded hallway, filled with the muffled sounds of conversations and the soft clinking of cups from the coffee shop in the corner. Life went on, indifferent to the loss that hung heavy in the air. Sung-gil felt the burden of his profession weigh upon his shoulders. Was it possible to be both detached and compassionate at the same time? He walked out of the funeral home, into the bright sunlight that cast long shadows across the pavement. As he looked down at his hands, which still carried the faint scent of the cleaning solution and the starch from the funeral home's crisp white attire, Sung-gil felt a shiver run down his spine. What was the true value of a life like Jang Han-soo's? Was it not in the countless moments of kindness and warmth he had shared with his community? The memory of his restaurant lingered in Sung-gil's mind like an echo, haunting him as he continued down the path he had unknowingly chosen. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the city in a warm orange glow, Sung-gil knew that he stood at a crossroads. Will he continue to adhere to the company's policy, churning lifeless bodies through the funeral service with all the warmth of a well-oiled machine? Or will he find the courage to break free from the shackles of a system that prioritizes profit over people?