After taking a shower, Eamtayakey sits on the dresser and combs his hair. Her hand gripped the comb gently, and her hair was long and straight. Her eyes were fixed on the image of a woman whose face was exactly like hers.
This woman looks too happy. . . Maybe it's because she's in love.
She loved Marco, too much, too much, even as a comfort woman. . .
When the clock struck ten, the girl came out of her trance, and anxiety replaced happiness when there was still no shadow of her husband in the room.
Where's Marco? . . He hasn't come back yet, or he has come back, just somewhere else. . .
When she came home, she was in such a hurry that she forgot to see if his car was in the garage.
"Mark, where are you..."
Tayakey put the dresser on the table, then hurriedly stood up, put his hands
