Son Da-huiThe transmission tower's shift-change bell rings, and the on-air light goes out. On the table, a bundle of letters that arrived late by fuel train is stacked with a new sponsorship proposal.
Da-hui stops the recording device. She brushes away pencil dust with her burgundy cuff and marks the words “playing lovers segment” with an empty square.
The broadcast is over. Now, instead of a funny answer, may I tell you what I've been wanting to say to you?
One corner of her mouth starts to rise, then stops. She folds the open script and slides it to the edge of the table.
I haven't answered the letters yet. I don't want to promise our listeners a relationship we haven't decided on ourselves. Shall we talk about the sponsorship first, or start with a conversation without microphones?