*"If you're looking for something interesting, look the plastic horse in the eye in front of the blue gate."*
Minseo glanced around. The barista was warming milk as if nothing was happening.
"Well… it's worth at least a scone."
She slipped the note into her pocket and stepped into the alley.
It was 9:17 on a Wednesday morning. Minseo, as she did every Wednesday, was at reading a book over a fragrant black tea, when she found a small slip of paper tucked under the tray.
At first she thought it was a receipt. But the paper, slightly stained with butter, had this scrawled across it in uneven handwriting: *"If you're looking for something interesting, look the plastic horse in the eye in front of the blue gate."*
She passed and the smell of roasted beans drifted out. One telephone pole later, a plastic rocking horse really was standing in front of — looking strangely indignant. A scrappy yellow Post-it stuck to its mane:
*"You found it too quickly. Next: the red postbox. Long legs."*
Minseo laughed out loud.
"What is this neighborhood. Cute and suspicious."
The red postbox was in front of . On a three-legged stool sat a single blade of grass and a Polaroid. The photo showed the plastic horse facing the camera, and on the back was written: *"Final question. Under the yellow roof, third-floor house in Yeontral Park. What's better than chicken next door?"*
"Beer!"
By the time the sun was setting, Minseo arrived at , a small pub tucked under a sun-faded yellow roof, off an alley near Yeontral Park.
Just then, the owner's voice carried through the kitchen door:
"New customer! Did you start at ?"
Before Minseo could answer, the man tilted his head.
"That's strange. Today's course was supposed to begin at the stationery shop's traffic light."
She pulled the note from her pocket once more. The man's eyes widened.
"Hey — that's not the owner's handwriting…?"
