Insomnia LEE JUNE YUN

One late night I was alone in the house and struggling, as usual, to fall asleep before my mom came home. The thought that I might be considered a "bad boy" unsettled me. As the 472nd sheep jumped over the fence, I finally heard the front door unlocking, accompanied by soft groans and the sound of high-heeled shoes being shaken off. Shutting my eyes tight, I instinctively curled up further inside my bed. The time to fall asleep was now.

Stockinged footsteps plodded towards my room, and a moment later the door opened. I heard my mom walk in and lie next to me. I could smell the soju on her breath. After a tense pause, she started to sob. Her crying made me feel confused and uneasy. Although a recurrent occurrence, encountering a drunk emotional mother as a child never becomes easy.

She started ranting about all the hardships that she was dealing with as a businesswoman and as a single mother. She complained about how women are constantly undermined in Korean society and how hard life was each day. I struggled to understand but found it hard to truly empathize with her words. All I could do was resolve to be a better boy for her. Then, perhaps because she ran out of things to complain about, she started lecturing me about a...