Midnight Diner

Episode 6

What could possibly be in that book?

He put the barbell back on the rack and sat on the bench, panting heavily. She had told him it was a compilation of short stories she wrote, but nothing more. He thought about her. Her hair was braided in a bun and ran down her shoulders. She wore white glasses and had welcoming brown eyes.

Why am I even thinking about her?

He picked up the barbell and put it on his back.

She had pretty earrings. Shiny white ones with jewels.

He continued with his workout.

***

She stared at her computer screen. The letters formed words and words formed sentences.

But her palms met her face and she held herself and let out a loud sigh.

Writer's block.

She had written the same paragraph and deleted it over and over again for a few hours now. The story idea that formed in her head was becoming less and less clear. She noticed as she developed her characters and stepped into their shoes, she may want to change the plot and give the story different twists and turns and ... and ...

She wanted to do too much. There were too many paths the story could go and each one holds a different destiny for her characters and different developments and different hardships, challenges and emotions. But if she chose one, what would happen to the other paths? Her readers and herself would not be able to explore the many different possibilities that could have been. But how would she choose?

She slapped her laptop shut.

"I need a breather," she thought to herself as she started packing her stuff into her bagpack, a faded turquoise book bag made from quilted fabric. She had had the bag for a long time and it was the bag she always used for both school and work. She also put on her coat, a long brown-green puffer that stretched to just above her knees, and zippied it up. She had also had that jacket for awhile now. She appreciated fashion and clothes, but she rarely bought anything new.

"I go to work and school everyday anyways," she would always tell herself. "No point dressing up so much if my days are repititive."

Little did she know, her sense of fashion and art and details did seep into her writing. She would always take time to describe clothes and settings in her writing. It helps paint a picture of the scene that only she knew.

She started to feel hungry. She looked at the clock.

Half an hour more until my shift starts.

She took out her lunchbox. He had made it for her the last time they saw each other. She had no idea why he made her a lunchbox, but she had taken it anywas. It was a traditional bento box made of polished bamboo.

She opened it.

Oyakudon.

It was a simple Japanese comfort food :) Chicken pieces were seared while some sliced onions were sauteed until they had coloured. Next, a mixture of mirin, soy sauce and sugar was added into the chicken and onions and the mixture is let to simmer. Some beaten eggs were mixed into it to make it more filling and give it more texture.

She smiled.

She hadn't had it in so long.