Noodles for lunch

It was raining again. I put my right cheek to the floor and lay the rest of me down with it.

This noodle was really testing my patience. Wriggly and slithery, it slunk toward me at its own unhurried pace. Tired, I speared it with my fork and waited until it had rolled it into a loose ball, then shoved the whole thing into my mouth. Well, that didn’t taste as good as I had hoped it would. But now that I had started eating, I couldn’t just suddenly stop, could I?

I reached for the next one. Brown and overcooked, it did a good job of evading my jabs. Eventually though, I managed to get this one on the fork as well. Holding it in place, I cut it into two. The second half jumped all over the place, but at least the first half had gone in real quick.

“Raima! Raima!”

Yes, that would be my dad. Better finish the meal before he came in and dragged me away. I remembered the last time he’d caught me at it. My face still stung with the memory of his slap. Yes, my dad was a bad person indeed.

“Raima, what are you doing?”

I heard him enter the room beyond. Time to make a quick exit.

“Not so fast, young lady!”

And he’d caught me again! “Give me that fork! Open your mouth now! Oh God, are you eating…”

“Earthworms again?!” he yelled.


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