At the market, I held Father's hand while my shared ice pop melted over my fingers. Flags moved above the fruit stalls in the bright holiday sun.
Timeslip Diary
Flags in the Hot August Wind
8/15/1998 β A day in Jiwon Jeon's life
The world of 1998Day 1 of the timeslipMe at 5
At about 7:10 a.m. in the small bedroom of our Mapo apartment, I woke to the clatter of a metal flagpole bracket outside and the hiss of cicadas beyond the screen window. Warm light lay across my summer mat, and the electric fan clicked each time it turned toward me.
π Today's diary3
7:40 a.m. β Our Mapo Apartment Kitchen π
At 7:40 a.m. in our narrow Mapo apartment kitchen, I stood on a plastic stool while Mother spooned rice into a stainless-steel bowl. The soybean-paste soup smelled of zucchini, and a small electric fan pushed the steam sideways. Father brought our folded Taegeukgi from the wardrobe and carefully tied it to the pole outside the veranda. I was allowed to smooth one corner with both hands, though the cloth kept puffing away from me in the hot breeze. On the television, a holiday ceremony was beginning, but I understood only that the grown-ups became quiet when the flag appeared.
π This card links to a search for related records from that era instead of the original source.
11:30 a.m. β Seogang Neighborhood Market π
At 11:30 a.m. at the Seogang neighborhood market, I held Father's little finger as we passed striped awnings bright with hard summer light. Shopkeepers had hung flags above crates of watermelons, peaches, and green peppers, and a radio carried a formal speech between bursts of static. Father said the country was marking fifty years and that the president was asking everyone to help begin again; the phrase sounded to me like rebuilding a block tower after it fell. Money was tight, so we bought one packet of ramyeon for 410 won and shared a single red bean ice pop instead of getting two. The cold sweetness ran over my knuckles before Father wiped it away with his cotton handkerchief. On the walk home, I counted flags until I lost track at the corner stationery shop.
π This card links to a search for related records from that era instead of the original source.
7:20 p.m. β Riverside Playground by the Han River π
At 7:20 p.m. at the small riverside playground by the Han River, the metal slide still held the day's heat while the sky turned peach-colored. Grandmother sat on a wooden bench and told me that when she was little, people had once filled the streets because the country had become free from Japanese rule. I could not picture such a crowd, so I watched our paper pinwheel spin in the river breeze and imagined every blade shouting with joy. Families nearby listened to portable radios, and somewhere behind the apartment blocks a television announcer repeated words from the day's Liberation Day address. Grandmother squeezed my shoulder and said freedom must be cared for, the way I cared for my favorite picture book. Back home, I placed the slightly bent pinwheel beside my pillow so I could show it to her again tomorrow.
π This card links to a search for related records from that era instead of the original source.
π° Today's headlines, back then2
A Call for a βSecond Nation-Buildingβ on Liberation Day β
I heard part of the Liberation Day address on television and again from a market radio. I did not understand the large words, but Father explained them as everyone helping the country stand up strongly again.
theme.archives.go.kr
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Remembering the Liberation of August 15, 1945 β
Grandmother told me that August 15 remembers the day Korea regained its freedom from Japanese colonial rule. Her voice made the flags along our street feel more important than ordinary holiday decorations.
encykorea.aks.ac.kr
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This diary is a work of fiction based on historical records and period research. Events with available records link to their original sources, while eras without surviving records are reconstructed through research-based imagination.
