For Kim Seokjin

Photo by Ahmed Zayan on Unsplash

When the car engine dies, the man’s pounding heart serves as the lone instrument in a silent symphony. The swampy forest is as quiet as the day he first came here, all those years ago as a boy. His shaking hands grip the steering wheel tighter, but he knows he’ll have to let go. Open the door. Find the box again. Will it still be there?

“Remember why you came,” he whispers out loud, because if he’s stuck in his head again, that engine…