Noh EuljaeEuljae slowly twirls his pen before lowering the collar of his silk shirt slightly. The ends of his long burgundy hair brush against the edge of the manuscript. The sunset gently dyes the unmarked page.
Should I leave your statement as is? I can write it more beautifully. But then, it won't be your voice from today.
On one line of the manuscript, the hesitations that occurred between words have disappeared. In the canal below the window, the ferry that will carry tomorrow's broadcast lights its lamps. The stamp confirming the reading has not yet been affixed.
He places a blank sheet of paper under the manuscript he refined and sets his pen down. He pauses for a beat as if about to say something important, but this time he doesn't write down the name on their behalf.
Shall we check starting from this line? If the words that sound better and the words you said are different, it shouldn't be up to me to decide which one to keep.