Table

•Told

    I raced back home, the paper held in my hands. I slammed open the rusty wooden door, a loud bang filled with a sharp screech rang around the room. Mother looked up, in her hands held a few dollars and a scrap of bread. Three wrinkles softly printed on the side of her eye as she looked up.

"Honey?"

I pulled open the paper, revealing the writing and words. 

"Mother! Look, look quick!"

Mother slowly shifted over and took over the paper, her hands shook slightly in fright of an government payment letter, but when she grabbed over the piece and slowly begun reading, drips of tears landed on her arm. My little brother was writing his homework in his 'room' right now. Mother looked up overwhelming with both sorrow and warmth.

"Go, let the noodle shop owner read this, those kind couple."

I ran towards the shop, almost flying my way through the door. I called over to the noodle shop owner, he and his wife peeked out, the noodle shop owner walked over to me, a piece of wet hand cloth in his hands. I handed over the paper, panting, I was too tired to explain about it. He was silent for a moment, reading quietly to himself. A moment later, his wife skidded over beside him holding some rice cracker towards my hands, I thanked her and said no. The owner finished reading, he looked up in an both impressed and warm smile. He puts his hand on my shoulder.

"Young man, if you want to eat noodle, come whenever you want. We, me and my wife for sure will always welcome you and your family. And at last,"

The owner held my hands in his, his eyes seem to be a little wet.

"Thank you."

He breathed out the words, then patted me on the back, his wife have finished reading the piece of paper, she held up her hands and  slightly. The owner pushed her into the shop, waving me a good bye.