Longing for a little time

Just got out from work. Driving ever so slowly with the air on, lights on, wipers on and music off. I feel like listening to the rain hitting the windshield today and yes, it’s like music to my ear right now. It’s been a long day.

I zipped my car about and turned into Bellaire Blvd. to Chinatown. I decided to go to this tiny restaurant, simply called the 88. I parked my car in front of the place, skipped and ran a little through the rain, got into the restaurant shake myself dry and find a seat by the corner window.

88 is a Chinese noodle place here in Houston that has a distinguish reputation of being authentic to the region of Borneo and Sumatra islands. They make their own noodle and the atmosphere is as casual as can be. Most of the people in the restaurant are people like me, eager to find a forgotten piece of themselves. They usually come here in group, and they speak their own language. They talk loudly and one group even brought a set of traditional Catur Cina warring at it.
I sat at the corner, enjoying watching people with umbrellas strolling by. Some people seem to be afraid of the rain more than others… in fact they looked like they are in a panic attack upon the contact with water.

I ordered a Koay Teow and sat quietly watching and listening to all these strangers. The different groups spoke a few different languages. Malay, Indonesian, Hokian, Cantonese and occasionally English, when someone did not know how to describe them in their native tongue anymore.
My Koay Teow arrived. Steaming, smelled and looked just the way it should be. In both space and time,… but mostly time. Suddenly, I am an 8 years old again, sitting low at the table, my eyes barely at the level of the top of the plate, my left hand reaching for the bottle of Greenspot that I would love to have a sip again here in America. My parents were young… yes, they were young and they were happy. I like that.

I closed my eyes and savored this little forgotten moment a little… partly to hold back my tears… a little.

Yes, that’s why I came here alone.