Analecta 2014 

Nonfiction 
Ashley Petersen 

Towers 

At the restaurant a stray grain of rice was popping on the skil­
let; I used my chopsticks without thinking about chopsticks and my leg 
only fell asleep twice during lunch. Shanna sat across from me, her dark 
curls framing her face in a heart shape. We'd only met the day before 
but I fell into her arms the moment I saw her. She awkwardly patted 
my back and I felt like a child clinging to a mother's breast; I finally 
had someone to talk to again. Someone who spoke my language. Some­
one who was from where I was from: America. She invited me to go to 
Mureung Valley with her, a mountainous terrain with multiple hiking 
trails that claimed to be "The Grand Canyon of Korea!" We decided to 
meet for lunch the next day and go from there. 

I agreed, even though I'd been many times before, because be­
fore I'd always been on my own. 

At the restaurant we ordered food we'd never tried before. A 
large pot held countless silkworm larvae all brown and steaming; we 
both picked at the bugs with our chopsticks, too afraid to try them, 
and settled on eating rice and soup instead. The soup was heartily filled 
with greens, smooth earthy mushrooms, and thick noodles the length 
of my arm. By the time my bowl was empty my belly was fat and hap­
py and I wanted nothing more than to lay back, use my floor mat as a 
pillow, and drift lazily off to sleep. 

We, however, had other plans, and shortly after Shanna was fin­
ished we left the restaurant and headed towards the trail that led up to 
the valley. The trail snaked past an ornate bridge with cranes and trees 
featuring half-moon shaped leaves carved into the stone of the hand­
rails; three colorfully decorated Buddhist monasteries were scattered 
beyond that, with candle after candle dotting the ground around stat­
ues of red tongued dragons. Beyond that, pools of fresh running water 
settled in stone wells with plastic scooping cups circling the edges for 
drinking. Shanna pulled out a water bottle and filled it up, then handed 
it to me. I gulped deeply and wiped the spill on my chin with the cuff 
of my sleeve. 

10 

We didn't talk n 
then we only talked wh 
iarity of her walk, the ' 
her clothes and even th 
started dripping at the 
and dirt became stones 
ders. My chest was hea­
of cars and hopping ov 
She asked me if I belie' 

Wishes? 
The word sound 

I made a wish, but I wi 
land counted as a one . . 
found a four leaf clove1 
in Korea. Regardless, I 
grabbed my hand and ] 
kled with vines. Hiding 
met misting the trees a 
rocks the size of my ou 
some impossibly hight 

"You know, the: 
other like this, and mal 
your wish will come tn 
rocks from the ground. 
right next to each othe 
ask. She didn't ask me 

The sun hung le 
mountains turned dark 
air, and we decided to t 
my apartment that nig 
wish I made, and the n 



on the skil-

s and my leg 
me, her dark 

lay before 

Uy patted 
; I finally 

llage. Some­

!lle to go to 
lple hiking 

~decided to 

ecause be-

1efore. A 
mrng; we 
ry them, 

eartily filled 

the length 

:at and hap­

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1na was fin­

at led up to 

~sand trees 

the hand­

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edges for 
.hen handed 

h the cuff 

• 

Analecta 2014 

We didn't talk much until we got further into the trail, and even 

then we only talked when we took breaks. I didn't mind. Just the famil­

iarity of her walk, the way her arms hung loosely to her side, the fit of 

her clothes and even the scrunchie she tied her hair back with when she 

started dripping at the sideburns comforted me. We rounded a corner 
and dirt became stones, stones became large rocks, rocks became boul­

ders. My chest was heaving with the effort of climbing boulders the size 

of cars and hopping over rushing streams, but we pressed on. 

She asked me if I believed in wishes at one point. 

Wishes? 

The word sounded strange here. I thought about the last time 

I made a wish, but I wasn't sure if hoping to find a friend in a foreign 

land counted as a one. After all, I hadn't thrown a penny in a well, 

found a four leaf clover, or even seen a shooting star since I arrived 

in Korea. Regardless, I shrugged and mumbled "sure," in reply. She 

grabbed my hand and pulled me around a large cliff face that was wrin­
kled with vines. Hiding on the side was a pool where two thin waterfalls 

met misting the trees and the rocks and our faces. Along the ground, 

rocks the size of my our hands were stacked one on top of the other, 

some impossibly high teetering in the light breeze. 
"You know, they believe that if you stack rocks on top of each 

other like this, and make a wish on them, when they finally fall over 

your wish will come true," She said this while gathering four or five 

rocks from the ground. I mimicked her. Soon, we both had rock towers 

right next to each other. I wondered what she wished for, but didn't 

ask. She didn't ask me either. 

The sun hung low in the sky and the areas between the looming 
mountains turned dark and brown. With evening came the cool, crisp 

air, and we decided to turn back. When I collapsed on the floor mat in 

my apartment that night, legs stiff and exhausted, I thought about the 

wish I made, and the many things I would talk to her about tomorrow. 

11