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How I Became a North Korean

by Krys Lee

This is a tale about desperation, about panic, about flight. It is a tale of what people will do to escape from something terrible, something fatal. It is a tale of how even the good can become corrupted. It is a tale of venality. But most of all it is a tale of hope. It is a tale of sheer determination. It is a love story. And love conquers all.

Extract

My right hand was a feathery pressure on her hips; my lips memorized her eyes, her nose, her lips. And though she was a proper girl from a good family, she sensed the strangeness of the night and allowed my arms to embrace her collarbone like a necklace. She must have known we were saying good-bye. This first kiss would remind me, whenever my hometown seemed an impossible dream, of who I had been.

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