Daily Prompts

Noodle Fangs

You promised me you wouldn’t that day.

We went to your favourite Asian restaurant. You had worn an orange dress with a collar studded with rhinestones. You’d ordered pho, and I still remember how a noodle dribbled down your chin, making you look like you had a squiggly fang. You were animated and your hands…they were always moving, waving, creating imaginary shapes in the air. I would know later that those shapes meant something.

We came home late. While I quickly flipped through the TV channels, you called it a day. Or so I thought.

Sometime after I came in, you were fast asleep, your cheeks still tinged with the wine we had drunk. As I was about to switch off the bedside lamp, I noticed your hands-there were traces of charcoal. I sighed. “You’re incorrigible,” I thought to myself as I set out to find your latest sketch.

It didn’t take me long to find it, it was propped proudly on my study table.

You had drawn a picture of us: you, drinking pho and me, laughing at your noodle fang.

I guess some promises are meant to be broken. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

Via Daily Prompt: Trace

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