It was a rainy night in North Korea, Kim Jong Un replayed the same thoughts in his mind; "I am a married man". He indeed was, a married man, yet he still longed for more, he had longed for the man bearing the heart of leader, roar of the lion, eyes of a dragon. Kim longed for Obama, Barrack Obama.

They had met a few days back, at a bookstore, or Starbucks, or Wal-Mart, it didn't matter, what mattered was that a simple bump in wasn't enough. He knew he couldn't just call the white house, he had asked for his phone number once; it had been kept in his pocket for a number of days. It was hard, to call him, to speak to him once more, breaking their silence from their previous abrupt encounter. But Kim was brave; Kim was ambitious.

"Of course, see you soon", was the last sentence of the short but long phone call. The same phrase was replaying, filling up the empty space in Kim's head, Kim overanalysed the simple phrase. He was going crazy, what is this unfamiliar sensation? Was it the thing, the Americans called love? Ding his thoughts were interrupted, it was the fried chicken, he shoved it back in.