A little too early
Maybe I got hungry a little too early that morning, but it was one Saturday I will never forget. I had been trying to read for about half an hour, but my stomach had other plans. It was impossible to concentrate with the hunger gnawing at me. The decision was clear, no food, no reading. So, I decided to walk about 10 minutes to get a plate of beans.
When I arrived, I was relieved to see the place open. It was a popular spot, and people were already lined up, each with their own craving to satisfy. I joined the queue and waited patiently for about 20 minutes, my stomach rumbling in protest. Finally, it was my turn. I paid, got my plate of beans packed in a nylon bag, and turned to leave, already imagining the satisfaction of that first bite.
But life had other ideas. As I took my first few steps, I felt a shift in my hands. Before I could react, the nylon tore. In slow motion, I watched as my food crashed to the ground, beans splattering everywhere. My heart sank. The smell of freshly cooked beans surrounded me, but I was left empty-handed.
I stood there for a moment, crushed, feeling the weight of disappointment. I looked up at the seller, half-expecting her to be angry or dismissive. Instead, though she wasn’t exactly happy, she sighed and gave a small nod of understanding. These kinds of things can happen to anyone. She handed me another plate, and though it wasn’t free, her understanding was everything.
This time, I held onto that nylon like my life depended on it.
When I arrived, I was relieved to see the place open. It was a popular spot, and people were already lined up, each with their own craving to satisfy. I joined the queue and waited patiently for about 20 minutes, my stomach rumbling in protest. Finally, it was my turn. I paid, got my plate of beans packed in a nylon bag, and turned to leave, already imagining the satisfaction of that first bite.
But life had other ideas. As I took my first few steps, I felt a shift in my hands. Before I could react, the nylon tore. In slow motion, I watched as my food crashed to the ground, beans splattering everywhere. My heart sank. The smell of freshly cooked beans surrounded me, but I was left empty-handed.
I stood there for a moment, crushed, feeling the weight of disappointment. I looked up at the seller, half-expecting her to be angry or dismissive. Instead, though she wasn’t exactly happy, she sighed and gave a small nod of understanding. These kinds of things can happen to anyone. She handed me another plate, and though it wasn’t free, her understanding was everything.
This time, I held onto that nylon like my life depended on it.
