In a cold evening in seoul rains starts pouring ,Park Sung-ho a street vendor selling a corndog near the bus stop struggling to pull his cart it suddenly toppled over ,
He looked at it irritatedly and tried to fix it but the wight was too much for his body.
The rain was already pouring heavily while fumbling the cart he accidentally cut his hand with a sharp tool.
His clothes were already soaked but he still continued to work desperately trying to lift the cart.
No one stopped to help him.People just passing by ignoring him completely as if his invisible.
Finally he mange to flip the cart ,his breath trembles as he pressed his injured hand against his chest ,he felt like his body collapsing any seconds
"Why is it always me? Why does no one ever…"
His thoughts faded as his body gave out, knees sinking into the cold pavement. He sat there, shivering, clutching his bleeding hand.
And then—amid the blur of umbrellas—
a shadow stopped.
Unlike the others, it didn't pass him by.
It stood there. Silent. Watching..