A visit to Mok-dong

We are visiting my mother-in-law in Seoul, staying in her apartment in Mok-dong.

She throws nothing away, indeed, why should she, and the top of the fridge seems to be an appliance grave-yard. I stand on my tip-toes and get a good look at it. It's a scary place up here. My mother-in-law is too short to see the top of the fridge, and out-of-sight, out-of-mind. It is covered in years of oily kitchen dust.

I start moving things around up there. There are spider webs; and palpable shadows cast without reference to nearby lights. I lift up an old blender, and think I get a glimpse of something scampering further back. I go and put some gloves on, and a spelunking light. I consider hitching up a climbing harness, but the only one I can find is made out of pink lace and has breast cups.

I reach my gloved hand back past the blender. I feel the outline of a griddle and a set of encyclopedias. I reach further, and then furhter. But I find nothing. I get my knee up on the fridge so that I can get in deeper. Moving forward, my light reveals a pile of sofa cushions and a fishing rod. I hear low chant from deeper in, "Og, og, og."

Now fully on top of the fridge, I delve deep, dropping bread crumbs as I go. Passing all sorts of junk, I eventually come to a small door with a skull and crossbones painted on it.

"I'm not cut out for this type of adventure." I decide, and turn back. I am a bit disappointed at my own cowardice. On my way back, I find an old drip coffee maker. If this works, it'll be worth the disappointment I feel in myself.