a fly committed suicide by dashing into my newly arrived minced meat mushroom noodles.
my $5 note was between my hand and uncle’s.
the insect was drowning almost instantaneously.
i dug out the insect and quickly threw the specimen into a bowl of soup left by the previous customer
it wriggled vehemently before it finally drowned.
almost at the same instance, i pressed the money into the uncle’s hand.
“Do you want me to change a bowl of noodles for you?” were the words that came off from his lips, totally incongruent to his body language and tone – afterall, how much was he making from a bowl of noodles?
he and i looked at the almost perfect bowl of noodles with uncomfortable expectation.
“it’s ok, ” I said. almost immediately; i begin to dug in.
before i could, i asked for a clean spoon – the image of a black, struggling animal in wet chilli in that spoon could not be erased from my mind- it was a huge insect - the size of your pinky fingernails.
“such flies been appearing quite often these days,” uncle said, returning me the change.
then i tucked into a sumptous bowl of dead pig mushroom noodles.
when i didn’t die from finishing the dangerous pile of food, i realised how much of life’s lesson i learned from the 3 minute encounter – it revealed a change i didn’t see in myself.
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