Page 82 - I Live in the Slums: Stories (The Margellos World Republic of Letters)

The door creaked, and the two mountain people entered. The bride’s face was
instantly devoid of expression. She sat there unmoving, like a puppet.
Ayuan kept staring at her face. The more he gazed at her, the more familiar
she looked. Who was she? She was here alone having her wedding photo taken.
Where was the bridegroom? The mountain person with the droopy eyes spoke
up.
“You think she looks familiar, don’t you? All the people who live here seem
to look familiar. At first, I wasn’t used to this. I come here often. This young
woman lives next to the White Sands Well—in the house with a copper bell on

the door.”
Frowning and waving his hand, the photographer said, “All of you get out of
here. Leave, will you? The bride isn’t in a good mood. I can’t photograph her
now!”
The mountain people stuck their tongues out and glided away. Ayuan stood
there blankly, still thinking to himself, Who is she? The bride continued sitting
like a puppet.
“Huh? What are you waiting for? If you don’t leave soon, you won’t find the
exit!” the photographer urged him.
As if wandering in a dream, Ayuan walked out of the photography studio.
The corridor was so long that he couldn’t see the end of it. For a while, he
walked ahead without thinking. Then he turned to the right, hoping to see the
exit. He bumped into someone; that wasn’t the exit, but the corner of the

staircase. The person he had bumped into was the bride—still in the red satin
gown. The ice-cold satin looked inauspicious and frightened Ayuan.
“Ayuan, don’t go,” she said. Her voice had become thin and feeble.
“How did you know my name?”
“Those two people told me. Now you can’t go out. They brought you in and
never intended to let you leave. This is a large place; you mustn’t wander around
aimlessly. Let’s sit on the stairs and wait for nightfall.”
“Is it dangerous here?”
“Yes. Hurry up and sit down.”
Ayuan smelled the powder on her face.
“Are you going to be married soon?” he asked.
“Married?” She began laughing. “No way. I’ll never get married.”
Ayuan heard footsteps on the stairs and twisted his head to look, but it was
like a black hole above.
“Is there a photography studio upstairs, too?” Ayuan asked. He spoke louder
than usual to boost his courage.

Without answering, the bride looked reproachfully at him.
The footsteps continued down. Ayuan had to take another look. He saw a