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tuesday| january 9
"It was a desolate place that screamed chaos but the humble little diner hovers above me, with its inviting smell that wafts towards me."
The atmosphere dimmed a gradient orange until it transitioned to a deep shade of lapis lazuli. I felt my hands growing numb from the soft vibration coming from the radio, so I set it down on a hovering tabletop.
"The usual?"
The store owner asked gruffly looking over to my direction with his sunken olive eyes.
I nodded in reply, and imagined the potato wedges being dipped into a container of salsa－once, I sneaked a peek into the kitchen and saw the soft wedge being skinned to perfection. The memory made my mouth water.
