HA-NA JANG VOL. 1

By Dan Han Min

Ma told me on Thursday when Pops was at work. I’d been back home since the week before, soon as the last exam wrapped – hurried together a few essential things and zipped off of campus, ringing Sam halfway to say, Hit me up when you get close to town. I was cheerful being back: to Ma’s food, Sam just a ways off, and loafing shoeless at the tv. Didn’t hafta keep to the standards, really.
Mostly I made my own reasons to hide the books. Stole many of the hours vegging with Sam in the dorms ‘cause he was from my way, and there were two or so Hanguks I could rap with okay. The first semester kicked me hard. Studious as Sam was, his habits stuck to his self, and his only sanctioning words to me ever were cracks about my unmodel-like disposition. What would your people think? said he.