written last night, spur of the moment. Terrible title, sorry.
Fortune cookie
The meal itself was unremarkable.
Tofu doesn't absorb the
spices and sauces
of chinese food nearly as well as
the beef
the dish is supposed to have.
Lots of slender little vegetables still piled high on one side of the plate.
Probably a healthy thing for him,
but the taste is bland and uninteresting
and each bite of the carrots or bamboo shoots only recalls the beef he isn't eating
As usual,
the choice of tofu as the main course,
the the desperate, hungry mind,
justifies eating the fortune cookie
at the end of the meal.
While the tofu was square,
the vegetables long rectangles,
he could think of a single other food that looks anything like that cookie.
Snapping it in half, he read his fortune while eating what he'd pictured as an oriental oreo,
cream filling replaced by ambiguity, which is anything but filling.
He read his cryptic clipping,
smiling wistfully
and feeling slightly amused by the determinism it presented,
which he has no faith in.
"Something Wonderful is about to happen."
He was consequently
filled with wonder
at what may be the most general thing he'd heard since
...
General Motors
...
Realizing that (simile? he wasn't sure) meant that his wit was off for the night,
he began playing with the paper,
still crunching his sweet cookie.
First,
he folded the paper in half,
bisecting wonderful with a crease.
Then,
curling in the ends,
leaving them rounded.
Rolling his eyes at his own lack of
...
stoicism,
he placed the fortune on the table, and
returned to playing with his vegetables,
like some petulant child.
Realizing he couldn't escape his nostalgia, he started to leave.
As he was getting up,
he decided to fold up the fortune, and placed it in his pocket.
You know.
Just in case.
Fortune cookie
The meal itself was unremarkable.
Tofu doesn't absorb the
spices and sauces
of chinese food nearly as well as
the beef
the dish is supposed to have.
Lots of slender little vegetables still piled high on one side of the plate.
Probably a healthy thing for him,
but the taste is bland and uninteresting
and each bite of the carrots or bamboo shoots only recalls the beef he isn't eating
As usual,
the choice of tofu as the main course,
the the desperate, hungry mind,
justifies eating the fortune cookie
at the end of the meal.
While the tofu was square,
the vegetables long rectangles,
he could think of a single other food that looks anything like that cookie.
Snapping it in half, he read his fortune while eating what he'd pictured as an oriental oreo,
cream filling replaced by ambiguity, which is anything but filling.
He read his cryptic clipping,
smiling wistfully
and feeling slightly amused by the determinism it presented,
which he has no faith in.
"Something Wonderful is about to happen."
He was consequently
filled with wonder
at what may be the most general thing he'd heard since
...
General Motors
...
Realizing that (simile? he wasn't sure) meant that his wit was off for the night,
he began playing with the paper,
still crunching his sweet cookie.
First,
he folded the paper in half,
bisecting wonderful with a crease.
Then,
curling in the ends,
leaving them rounded.
Rolling his eyes at his own lack of
...
stoicism,
he placed the fortune on the table, and
returned to playing with his vegetables,
like some petulant child.
Realizing he couldn't escape his nostalgia, he started to leave.
As he was getting up,
he decided to fold up the fortune, and placed it in his pocket.
You know.
Just in case.