Chinese radish (breakable)
I literally told my mum I would take a cup and not a bottle because a bottle would mean commitment. She’s making pizza and would be the perfect italian if we didn’t directly descend from China.
I had the realisation that kids will be more likely to learn their right from left not in the trick where your pointing finger and thumb make an L or not, or with which and you write with. But rather the left and right click on the mouse.
Last night I had dinner at my grandparents, they bought a salmon and sliced it to two and a half plates of tiny slivers. You ate it raw, dipped in white vinegar and then again into peanut sauce eating the strangely delicious and eye poppingly vibrant sensation on a slice of raw chinese radish. It was good.
My grandma got scanned for her heart on Friday They’ll know the results tomorrow. And I couldn’t help but wonder as both her and my grandfather came out with the piles of food, if this was their present, this was a memory they wanted to create, before their world and ours shattered.
It’s like the moment when the breakables are still up in the air and yet to earn their descriptors, where you wonder, perhaps this time it’ll be different. But I like to over romance things, not in the love way but in the way where I want to see patterns in life, in the cars that go past and how many leaves fall past my window in the next breath.
Reposted from http://lies.tumblr.com/post/63352866965.
