The Alley That Rests in My Heart

He is a blind masseur. Every morning he stands at the alley for a while, saying he is "looking at the fog." The neighbor laughed at what he was looking at when he couldn't see. Later, an old lady told me that thirty years ago he sent his fiancée away in the fog, and she married overseas and promised to return in three years. His head turned white and his eyes went blind from crying. Someone asked him if he hated it, and he said: "No. There is mist only when there is love, and there is no mist without love. I can't see the fog, because my heart has been clear for a long time." That winter, a taxi stopped at the alley, and the old lady who got out had all white hair.