10 Jan Spice of Life
He slid the ring back in his pocket. It wasn’t a “let’s talk about this later” or anything that would suggest the timing was off, but negotiable. It was a flat out “no.” He swears the whole restaurant let out a collective sigh of sympathy. It was time to get away. He decided on Tokyo. Tokyo was foreign in all aspects, and most likely wouldn’t have reminders of his ex and their failed relationship. They never took an international trip together. She was the type who thought Chinese food was “too ethnic.” He decided on a street food cart selling what looked like grilled squid on a stick. He was never an adventurous eater, his habits perpetuated by his ex’s own bland habits. He eyed the squid with curiosity, then skepticism. “Ikayaki” the young woman selling the food said with a smile. She was mind-mannered and kind, handling the food with care and detail. Her beauty was as enticing. “Excuse me?” “Ikayaki” she repeated and handed him a stick. He took a small bite, then finished the rest in three. She giggled at how ravenous he was. He pointed to each of the other grilled seafood on a stick, signaling that he wanted one of each. They spent the rest of night communicating with nothing but smiles and glances, no need for words.
