Easy

Last night I let my thoughts take me out for a walk. I was a dog led on a leash by my mind. It was early evening and the moon was a mellow sun engulfing this sleepy town with it’s tranquil glow.

“Slow walks should be like this”, I thought, “mild and unobtrusive.”

I stopped by a young girl selling barbecue.

“Two sticks please,” I smiled, “here’s my payment, I’ll come back for this later.”

It’s easy enough to smile when you’re spending your time the way it should be spent—freely and easily. I walked on the grassy roadside, skipping muddy puddles. It rained earlier so the breeze, however sparse, was cool making me lighthearted and even more predisposed to smile. I passed by the makeshift restaurant that serves chao long. I was amused to see so many people eagerly anticipating their first spoonful of soup. I know the chao long there tastes weird (sweetish and salty), but perhaps like some things in life, chow long enjoyment can be acquired through time. I can think of beer and durian and red wine, heck even some folks go so far as to say that even love can be an acquired taste, so why the hell not chao long?

When it started to get really dark (I guess the moon can no longer pretend that it’s the sun, it has to relinquish its borrowed glory sometime) I turned around and retraced my steps, past the chao long house, past the dog I noticed earlier that was tied to the fence, past the puddles of mud, and easy as pie, I was already in front of the barbecue girl.

She smiled her easy smile – the kind of smile that can only be seen in the provinces – and gave me my two barbecue sticks, asking me if I want some sauce to go. I smiled back and said no.

I walked away, a barbecue stick on each hand, feet shuffling one after the other, occasionally nibbling on my barbecue, my thoughts still leading me on.