XIV | Date

❦

For some reason,

we're eating chicken rice at a bar.

'What's the shop called?'
Rizwan asks,
looking around.

There's an aquarium glowing in one corner,

water bubbles rising,
fake plants dancing,
no fish.

The walls of the bar are painted black,
peeling in some places,
decorated with chalk drawings.

A futile attempt to cover up
marks of
previous
carpentering
adventures.

The tables are tall, thin and small
—typical bar stuff.

Dark-wood decorated with one fake flower in a thin vase.

Next to the flower
is a bottle of chicken rice chilli.

Strange abstract photographs
are framed at the corners of the shop.
There are dusty-blue curtains
but no windows behind them.

One sign on the wall reads:
DON'T DRINK AND DRIVE.

So random.

'It used to be a bar,'
Rowan explains,

taking a bite of her chicken rice.

There's three white crates
on top of each other
in the middle of the shop
(where the dance floor used to be).

They're stamped in blood-red
with the word: FRAGILE!

'The bar was called...'

She thought for a bit.
Then continued, 'Anyway, it's now my father's chicken rice shop.'

Awkward silence.

[Read the full story at novelconbini.com!]