Between Earth and Elsewhere

“Hey.”

Yeomyung turned at the door, meeting his coworker Sunhee’s gaze.

Sunhee’s tone was sharp as she continued, “You clocked in before changing into your uniform again, didn’t you?”

The store used fingerprint scanning for tracking shifts. Yeomyung looked down, saying nothing.

“How many times do I have to tell you? Clock in after you’re in uniform,” Sunhee said. When he remained silent, she pressed on. “Are you actually working while changing? No, right? Working hours start when you’re in uniform.”

Yeomyung shifted uncomfortably.

“Think ten minutes isn’t a big deal? Six shifts of that adds up to an hour of wasted wages.”

“I… forgot,” Yeomyung replied.

“God, these new hires,” Sunhee muttered. “Having to explain every little thing…” She shot him a final glance before disappearing into the kitchen.

Yeomyung left, his thoughts churning as he walked to the bus stop. Why isn’t changing time counted as work? I’m only wearing the uniform because of the job. Shouldn’t that count?

But what was the point in arguing?

His phone buzzed twice. Dad calling.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Yeomyung,” his dad said as soon as he answered, “pick up Grandma’s cream from the pharmacy. You know the one?”

“Yes.”

“Get the cheapest one— Mom, please, I’m talking to him… Why do you keep—”

He could hear them squabbling in the background.

“This old lady, I swear…” his dad grumbled. “Here, just take the phone.”

His grandmother’s voice came through. “Yeomyung.”

“Hi, Grandma.”

“My arms and legs are so prickly lately. Must be the mold in the house. Can’t sleep through the night. Nothing helps—not the medicine, not the cream…”

“Just tell him what you need,” his dad interrupted from somewhere nearby. “Stop rambling.”

“That cream you always buy… could you try a different one this time?”

His dad cut in, “What different one? Give me the phone.”

“I just think maybe the cheap one isn’t working,” his grandmother protested.

More bickering, then his dad’s voice came through clearer. “Just buy the same one, okay?”

“I’ll ask if there’s something better,” Yeomyung said.

“Don’t bother. They’re all the same,” his dad said. “At her age, nothing’s going to help anyway.”

“…I’ll still ask.”

His dad sighed, muttering about how she was becoming more childlike with age.

Yeomyung ended the call and boarded the bus.

A dark thought crossed his mind: it would be nice if his grandmother passed away soon. She was over 90—she’d lived a full life. Surely wishing for her death wasn’t such a terrible betrayal? It’s not like the wish itself could make it happen. That made it okay, right?

Then another thought: maybe it would be better if his dad passed too. Not that Yeomyung disliked him. It’s just… his presence didn’t seem to help much. His dad was hardworking but earned little. He’d retired too early and hadn’t done anything since. Though that wasn’t entirely his fault either.

Yeomyung felt no resentment toward his dad. And his dad never blamed Yeomyung for his poor grades or lack of skills. They had an unspoken agreement not to fault each other. In their own way, father and son were alike in their incompetence. Members of the same tribe don’t harm their own.

Yeomyung stepped off the bus.

Just then, a loud noise split the air. It sounded like a scream or tires skidding on asphalt.

Yeomyung’s head instinctively snapped toward the noise.

Something flashed before him. He couldn’t process it fully, but something massive was hurtling his way. At this rate, the light would swallow him, and that ‘something’ would strike with lethal force.

Am I going to die?

Time stretched as that ‘something’ closed the gap from an arm’s length to mere inches. Then it stopped, right at his nose.

Yeomyung stood frozen.

Voices erupted around him.

“Oh my god, that was close!”

“Are you okay?”

“Someone could’ve died! Who drives like that?”

Time snapped back to normal.

An old man at the bus stop collapsed from shock.

The ‘something,’ Yeomyung now saw, was a motorcycle. Its back wheel had lifted almost vertical before slamming down with a thud. If it had flipped, he’d be in critical condition.

Getting injured wouldn’t do. Death, maybe, but not injury.

The thought surfaced, then left him confused.

Had he failed to dodge, or chosen not to?

Maybe it had been too late to avoid by the time he saw it. But he hadn’t even tried to move. If he had, he’d probably be sprawled on the sidewalk now.

Had his instincts decided it was hopeless? Or had he figured a crippled life wasn’t worth living? Don’t all creatures fight to survive, no matter what? Or had shock simply paralyzed him? Unable to move, or unwilling?

He couldn’t tell if he felt relief or disappointment.

The motorcyclist approached. Even with his helmet still on, Yeomyung could tell he was young. The motorcyclist hesitated, then asked, “Are you okay?”

Yeomyung nodded once. He was completely fine.

He stepped onto the sidewalk and started toward home.

Someone shouted behind him, “Hey, at least get his contact information!” He glanced back but kept walking.

There was a tap on his arm.

“Excuse me…”

Yeomyung turned. The helmeted boy stood there.

“Could we exchange numbers? If you leave like this, it might count as a hit-and-run…” His voice trailed off. He seemed oddly familiar with the procedure, as if this wasn’t his first close call.

“I didn’t get hit,” Yeomyung said.

“Sorry?”

“Nothing touched me.”

Yeomyung raised both arms to demonstrate.

The boy stared.

“That’s enough, right? Leave me alone and go.”

Yeomyung shoved his hands in his pockets and walked on.

Another tap on his arm.

Irritated—he hated getting caught up in these situations—Yeomyung turned with furrowed brows. But it wasn’t the boy.

A girl stood there.

Small, was his first thought.

She might have been pretty or doll-like, but all Yeomyung noticed was how tiny she was. Her height, frame, head, nose, mouth—everything miniature. Only her eyes seemed too big, as if they might tumble out at any moment.

Her skin was pale, like someone newly freed from long confinement. Her hair was disheveled, her white dress creased as if she’d just rolled out of bed.

She said nothing. Instead, those huge eyes roamed over him, studying him like an interesting dog at the park.

Her mouth hung slightly open as she looked him up and down.

Yeomyung stepped back.

Those eyes…

She seemed unhinged.

He turned to leave but stopped short as she blocked his path.

He took a wide step right to go around her.

He walked faster, but quick footsteps followed—the girl’s short legs almost running to match his stride.

As the path turned uphill, her breathing grew heavy.

What kind of persistent, crazy girl is this?

Yeomyung pressed on without looking back, the gap between them widening.

“Hah… hah… Excuse me!” she called out.

He ignored her.

“Why didn’t you dodge earlier?”

Yeomyung stopped.

He turned.

She stood doubled over, hands on knees, catching her breath. The wind caught her short, curly hair.

He hesitated, weighing whether to engage with this strange girl. Wouldn’t it just invite trouble?

If things got weird, he could always run uphill.

“Why are you asking?” Yeomyung said.

Still panting, she replied, “A person should instinctively avoid danger, but… you didn’t.”

“There wasn’t enough time.”

“That’s a lie.”

Had she noticed his moment of confusion, when he’d wondered if he couldn’t dodge or simply wouldn’t?

“Why would I lie?”

“You’re…” She frowned.

Yeomyung swallowed.

Her breathing steadied. “You’re an alien, aren’t you?”

The hell…?

He turned and started climbing again. She followed, seemingly refreshed from her brief rest.

Yeomyung regretted giving her that chance.

She shouted at his back, almost frantically, “You didn’t dodge because that situation wasn’t a threat to you—not like it would be for humans! That’s why your survival instinct didn’t kick in. You probably haven’t been in a human body long. Hah… So… you’re not fully adapted yet. Hah…”

She was panting again, clearly out of shape.

Her frail frame had no muscle, thankfully. If this crazy girl had been strong too, there’d be no escaping.

“Or maybe… are you wearing optical camouflage? Is that why you checked your pockets, to look for suit damage?”

As he walked, Yeomyung wondered if such a strange girl had always lived nearby. He’d never seen her before. Crazy people stood out, and someone this pretty would be hard to miss.

She stopped suddenly, shouting, “You can trust me! I’m not on humanity’s side! Hey! Please, take me with you. When you return to your planet, take me too!”

Yeomyung kept his pace.

Happiness comes in sample sizes, like free cosmetic testers, but misfortune arrives as a complete set. His burdensome family, his low intelligence, his poverty, his weakness… and now this irritating encounter, as if life worried things might get too dull.

“Crazy girl…” he muttered under his breath.