That was the first time in my life I’d smelled charred meat. I could tell it was different from the kind you’re supposed to eat, and my mother had to hold me as I threw up violently on the side of the street.
Old friend, you will be kept alive in jotted snippets and paper clippings.
The place had no soul or spirit left, and it was evident in the colourless walls, the unclean glasses, the empty eyes of the server who left me a menu card.
The wish itself was pretty mediocre and commonplace, a mundane fantasy to escape the mundane.
That was the first time in my life I’d smelled charred meat. I could tell it was different from the kind you’re supposed to eat, and my mother had to hold me as I threw up violently on the side of the street.
The place had no soul or spirit left, and it was evident in the colourless walls, the unclean glasses, the empty eyes of the server who left me a menu card.
Old friend, you will be kept alive in jotted snippets and paper clippings.
The wish itself was pretty mediocre and commonplace, a mundane fantasy to escape the mundane.
The blue never ended here. The lights did not go out either.
"What would be an absolutely perfect afternoon to you?"
I didn’t know the endings to most of the stories as I fell asleep halfway.
When Naf woke up, he didn’t have much expectations from the day.
Food's a love language. People who don't cook are missing out.
“Are you still there?” I ask. “I’m here,” I hear a voice that’s my own.
