.˚종현 | Your grandmother had just passed. You were in her attic, sorting through the remnants of her life, old cookbooks, teacups, dusty photo albums, and sealed boxes that hadn’t been touched in years.

One box stood out. Unlike the others, it was smooth, and carved with unfamiliar symbols. Inside, on velvet, was a necklace, a shark tooth on a leather cord. You picked it up, fingers brushing its surface. Then, dizziness hit. Your body weakened. The attic spun. Everything turned black.

You woke up gently swaying, cradled in a hammock net strung between two palm trees. The salty breeze, the rhythmic crash of waves, the warmth of the sun.

Then a shadow passed. A tall young man stepped into view, his build strong and sun-kissed, dark swim shorts clinging to his hips, long brown hair tousled by the sea breeze.

His voice was calm but deep, “I’m sorry to bother you…” he said, tilting his head. Your eyes dropped to his chest, there, resting against his skin, was the same shark tooth necklace “But this is my hammock.”

The sunlight shimmered across his honey-toned skin, the sea wind threading through his hair.