When you think about where to visit on New Year's Day, you begin to see that things don’t always go to plan.
They reached a high-rise building. There was a signpost at the front porch that read, ‘Menu Of The New Year Fest’.
‘I want to eat something,’ she said.
‘Ah, sorry, it was an oversight on my part that I offered you neither tea nor coffee in the morning.’ He tried to excuse himself.
‘Yes, but how come! You certainly have the particular oversight of my daily dieting, don’t you? Well, let’s have a look at what they’re serving today.’
There were some “bullet points” on the menu for them to conjure up some tastes of the unknown stuff. Carefully as he could, he read the list of dishes, then turned a long face towards his companion and sighed. ‘Just nothing to encourage your idiosyncrasies on the eve of a New Year!’
She’d pushed him impatiently to the door, ‘I can’t wait! Let’s get in and have something for my taste. ‘Hahaha’, he looked with a giggle, ‘Are you going to let me loose in the kitchen?’. She’d rolled her eyes up at his words….
They’d gone into a spacious coffee room of the building, looking around to find a free table. The cafe’s walls were adorned with art posters, some of them with appealing messages. One caption on the left side read ‘Sometimes, the simplest things mean the most’, on the right was another poster with the words, ‘Don’t sweat the small stuff’.
…‘Nope! I wouldn’t do it even for all the tea in China!’ She put in. ‘I simply want the waitress to serve us perfectly. Firstly, shall I start with some little premises about my staple diet to make her more sympathetic?
‘No, nobody need know about your niceties, just ask her directly for a rotten apple,’ he made an impatient grimace. 'That would be my New Year’s gift for you.'
They had settled at a round table. In relief, she’d rested her chest against the table's surface.
‘Well, I’m dreaming of such an apple. Last time, it transpired to be way liveable, remember? Home, home, home, let’s get warm, but don’t call me the worm! Boo!’ She winked at him playfully fidgeting.
‘Shush! I was joking’, he whispered. ‘Don’t reminisce about those days, they made me sick,’ he said, although lying through his teeth. ‘First thing first,’ he waffled on, ‘you must get through the horror before the break of dawn tomorrow. Shhh, the waitress’s due…
After a while, a cleaning lady, who they took for a waitress, approached the table; her eyes popped out in horror as she spotted them. She exclaimed in disgust, ‘Damn worms!' She quickly caught them with a washcloth and moped the surface of the table.
‘Hey, you’re suffocating me, idiot!’ The female worm screamed, gagging helplessly... Meantime, the male worm was wringing his hands, powerless to come out of the cloth. His ‘Please, don’t sweat the small stuff!’ was wearing off.
The End
by Erene I
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Erene I