My favorite color is Grey but the cloudy weather today with all shades of Grey makes me think it’s not the best choice. I look at the carefully folded notes in my purse and do some bit of math, I have retribution for my missed math lesson but its a split second anyways. It’s a half past two and I barely noticed the time go by today. In between meeting deadlines and threatening rains I missed checking the time not that I ever wear a watch.
There is this eatery at the end of the street I have been yarning to explore, it’s my next stop. I pick out the table in the rare corner, I could see the pedestrians seemingly together but completely strangers. It’s like there is some sort of unspoken instructions in how to survive human jam. The waiter’s pleasantries snapped me out of my musing. I have always had trouble making choices, like this morning I couldn’t decide on whether I should wear my polka sundress or sweatpants but I wore the black jeans. ” I think I will have beef stew, oh no wait a minute what do you serve fish fingers with?” Am almost certain I heard my self mention peas stew and vegetable salad yet am sitting here having pork chips served with mashed potatoes.
If there is one thing my grandmother taught me was that food can hold memories and feelings delicately like glass. And mashed potatoes are a time machine to six year old me playing in the mud and Mum calling me in to have lunch. I smile at the memory, reminiscing probably gives me a glow since the gentleman at the next table smiles at me and the girl at the counter waves eagerly. I notice the clouds are melting into warmth and I forgot to say my graces.