The Bottle Line

Dear Friend at the Other End,

Today was one of those days where everything smelled worse than usual. We had a backflow near Station 12 and it took four of us to clear it. My boots are still soaked—I think something died in that pipe twenty years ago and waited for today to get its revenge.

Anyway, your last message made my week. I never thought this little experiment with the bottle would actually work. Now, every time I pull it back in, my heart jumps a little. It’s strange, right? Two guys who’ve never met, passing notes through The Bottle Line like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

I wanted to ask something.
I have a distant cousin in Seoul—his name’s Nam-joon. We haven’t spoken since we were kids. If I write a short message, would you be willing to pass it along somehow? I know it’s a big ask, and I’ll understand if it’s too risky. Just thought I’d try.

Let me know what you think.
And thanks—for the messages, for the company, for reminding me this pipe isn’t just metal and water anymore.

Stay dry,
Kyung-hwan