(500 words) It is snowing at the checkpoint and John and Abbie are outside, gazing over the border to the Taebaek mountains, and freedom. “You come, please,” says the guard, his green tunic emblazoned with enigmatic decorations and his oversized green cap looking surprisingly uncomic. I look through the window to see Abbie throw a snowball at her dad. They are both laughing. “But we’re going soon, the bus’ll be here.” “You come.” North Korean guards aren’t people you ignore. He leads me into a small, austere office.