Lunch

Sometimes, just sometimes, I think my life is kind of sad.

I poured hot water over 3-day-old rice and topped it with a handful of shredded seaweed fried with olive oil and seasame seeds. Sitting on the floor, I ate my meagre meal from a plastic takeaway container with "Micriwave Safe" written at the bottom. The blank face of my old minibar, and the printed cast of Dokkaebi were my lunch dates today.

The rice my aunt cooks is always just right, but having kept it in the fridge for 3 days, it's lost all moisture. In exchange for a prolonged life, the quality of it was staked. Isn't that just like me? In order lengthen my time here, I'm trying to adhere to health standards and forsake my love for fried chicken.

It isn't as if I look forward to a long life either. I suppose this is what they call survival instinct.