Bread and Games

After spending last night here, in this freezing park in the middle of Seoul, a great idea came to me. Since my own writing is on life support and my ghostwriting is deader than I am, bills are piling up like unwanted relatives at a summer picnic, and I myself am stuck on the other side of the planet, homeless, penniless, worthless... 
 
…why not become a content creator? I’ll write a series about my travels around the world and turn it into a podcast, with photos and videos and weekly quizzes! It would definitely be an instant hit. Ad revenue would flow like water down the Han River. I could also sell postcards and calendars. Yes, my lifelessness is famously fascinating, filled with adventures and intelligent conversations with interesting personalities...
 
Mr Suit: Excuse me, may I have a moment of your time?

O.G. Ghostwriter: Huh?
 
Mr Suit: You look like you’re living a difficult life with no future.
 
O.G. Ghostwriter: I do?

Mr Suit: Luckily I have a small gift for you.

O.G. Ghostwriter: For me?

Mr Suit: A loaf of bread or a lottery ticket. Which one would you like?



O.G. Ghostwriter: Don’t you recognise me, you little punk? You slapped me across the face at the subway the other day – many, many times!

Mr Suit: Oh yes, nice to see you again. Have you signed up for the games yet?

O.G. Ghostwriter: "The games," you say? What kind of game are you playing? Handing out moldy bread to the needy? Luring the destitute into gambling with lottery tickets? Harassing the homeless in your spare time? I knew it! Give me that bag of bread!

Mr Suit: Now, wait just a moment…

O.G. Ghostwriter: Listen, I’ve had a really bad day – or should I say, a hell of a bad year! Let me show you what I think of you AND your bread and games!

Ghostwriter pours the bread out of the bag onto the ground and starts stomping on it. A crowd of people gathers to stare. Some of the onlookers start filming the scene. Mr Suit quietly slips away.

O.G. Ghostwriter: Take that, you piece of #?!%! And that! Whew, alright, alright, alright. That felt good!

He composes himself, tidies his robe, and then notices the crowd staring at him.

O.G. Ghostwriter: Well? What are you all staring at? Haven't you ever seen an artist in the middle of a creative process before?


...

Next Chapter: Valentine's Day Memories 

Previous Chapter: Korean Beauty Scare


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