To one side was a papier-mâché dummy of a woman in a bath, the water made from red Cellophane and her mouth hanging open as her eyes bulged and her sky blue head rolled backwards, and to the other side hung a series of photographs, blown up and mounted on canvas, of the shattered body of a Seoul ...
The day would usually begin with her hauling a box of stock from her neighbour’s home to the stall, and she would sit there for the rest of the day with her flask of coffee, vending an entirely haphazard range of books at various stages of disintegration. Her neighbour was...