The ocean on that road, where you could look down at the sea when you took a bus or walked up high, was quite egalitarian. I belatedly learned that the name of that road was Mangyang-ro, and the road around Mangyang-ro was called Jungbok-doro. In February 2010, we happened to meet grandmothers on this road. And we became close to two of the grandmothers, who were called Takju(Korean rice wine)(Malpil Ha) for selling takju, and Chungbaji(Jeans)(Geum-yeon Yang) for wearing jeans often. We face things that disappear and things that live on in the flow of time. Those moments that have become a part of me still linger in the narrow alleyway. Here on this road that felt like forever, I leave behind the traces of memories that have piled up.