Dan Dan and the Noodles of Despair

The Kitchen

Lying still in the inky blackness Daniel opens one eye. Tiny specs of dust are dancing in the pencil-thin shaft of light that has pierced the curtains, sucked into the darkness against its will. Daniel is so hungry he summons all his enthusiasm and rolls off the bed, venturing out of his self-appointed solitude, down to the kitchen in search of something to eat.

Family life is in mid-flow...

Daniel's father is waving a teaspoon, proclaiming for all to hear. 'Curves, curves, it's all about unlocking the public from the rigidity of conventional construction techniques, creating an interface between industry and the curvaceous expanse of nature.'

Daniel's mother pushes him away from the cutlery drawer. 'Yes, darling, could you please move over a bit.'

Sensing the urgency of his mission is not appreciated, he replies. 'We need to redefine the built environment, build a bridge for people to reconnect with the wider landscape, we must obscure the ordinary, we must banish the banal.'

'Yes Frank, why do you always do this?' she says in frustration.

'Do what?'

'Come into the kitchen at the same time as everyone else?'

'I'm making a cup of tea, it's the best drink of the day you know.'

'At the same time as everyone else? this kitchen isn't big enough for all of us, we have a whole house, but we insist on congregating in the same four square meters, even the cat is in here, will someone feed him before he attacks me?'

Daniel's father is now gazing up to the ceiling as if fixed in a trance he says. 'Curves of gleaming steel shining in the morning sun, curved glass and ever-changing reflections in a marriage of functionality that lifts the spirit and enhances daily life, Architecture as a healing art form.'

'Yes dear have a lovely day - go save the world, Daniel what are your plans for today?'

'Dunno.' says Daniel attempting to get the fridge door open.

'Really darling, not another day slumped in front of the television?'

'Guess so, why do I have to have a plan?' his voice trailing off in the hope there won't be a reply.

'Anyone you can call to come over?' she says in an exasperated tone, 'why don't you try to get out into the sun it's going to be a lovely day, you could go down to the beach?'

'Whatever - maybe - I'll see.'

'Are you going to have something to eat?'

'Yup noodles.'

'For breakfast, darling? wouldn't you rather have some Wheatbix, or there's some Crunchy Nut Cornflakes in the cupboard, and you know the cat loves the leftover milk from Crunchy Nuts.'

'Noodles will do.'

A few minutes later Daniel is staring down into his noodles, a beige swirling mass of entropy suspended in brown broth, trapped within the confines of a chipped bowl. He twirls them with his fork, lifts them up a bit, but nothing changes, they look the same, the same as yesterday, the same as every other day, the same as all the two-minute noodles in the entire world, two-minute noodles of despair. With a deep sigh, he pushes them aside.

Daniels Nan stands up from the table and lightly places her wrinkled hand on his shoulder, her wisened face forming a happy and knowing smile 'Would you like a cup of tea Dan Dan?' I'll make you a lovely cup of tea, that will cheer you up.'

'Thanks, Nan.'

His mum places a tub of fish food onto the table, 'Why don't you feed the fish they look a bit peckish.'