Ramen with a dash of emo

With all of the modern inventions of this upside worled, large wireless headphones was his particular cure to his cancer. Cancer is a dramatic word. He just despised “small talk with people” Large headphones meant an physical action from the stranger like pointing and starting whatever insignificant conversation that was bound to be had. So less chances awkward conversations Noticing that is grumpiness has hit an stage 4 level hit let his mind drift to dinner.

Cold and dreary with winds that cut into the soul. All that got him through the work day was daydreaming about ramen. The joy of cooking and eating food was immeasurable to him. Some might say better then sex or a live concert from your fave band. He caught himself giving a monologue to no one and want back to the prize. DINNER

The winter breeze has decided to be kind on the last 2 blocks to his apartment. He stops by the mailbox and does the key shake until his mail key appears. The click of the box and the turn of the key and Bam! Empty box. He shrugs his shoulders and heads upstairs.

Superman has the Fortess of Solitude and Batman has the Batcave and he has his mixture of both. A sanctuary of tears, laughs spices and booze. ”Hey Honey” he yelled even though there was no one else there. He undressed and put on his costume. Sweats and a hoodie. For the first time all day, he was ready to make dreams a reality.

If variety was the spice of life, call him the king of spice! He shook his head in disgust of that joke. He started cutting the bok chop, then the yellow onion. The water was boiling and he threw the noodles in. The world doesn’t matter when he is cooking. With internal timers when to check and dry the noodles, he is a savant in this small area. Music on. Aroma is putting its hand on his cheek before taking a a deep breath of nirvana. The beef is starting to sizzle and crack and he turns to lower the heat.

He spins his favorite bowl and places his ramen into it. The steam full of flavor is what he wishes every shower ended with. Grabs a wine glass and pours a dark red. He looks out of the window the leaves are dancing in the street. The streetlight keeps the routine in focus. He turns off the music and stares at his meal.

The chopsticks tap together and he goes in for his first bite. The texture is smooth and crunchy at the same time. The world has stopped spinning on it’s axis as that first bite went down. The exhale of a plan executed to perfection. The creeping thought of “ This would be better if you had company“ was rearing its head. I am healing, I am healing is the mantra when these moments come in.

Instead of focusing on the empty space or empty table, he started to play with is food. Using the chopsticks dunk the beef, he mind begins to drift. A tiny him appears and slides down the chopsticks into the broth. His tiny smile is infectious. Bobbing and weaving in between pieces of beef and noodles. Completely content.. “ Why couldn’t he be like that?” His mini me disappears and as quick as a Thano’s snap, he is back to the kitchen. He gets up and looks for his phone. With no messages he sighs. He thought about texting a friend or acquaintances but doesn’t follow through. He doesn’t need the distraction. Otis Redding is recounting on some old heartbreak, and he lays on the couch.. “ Same Otis, Same”