:luv:
The sour and crispy potato threads, piled high on a plate, exuded a refreshing tanginess, while the fried rice, fragrant and distinct in every grain, glistened with a sheen of oil. These familiar flavors, which nurtured me through my upbringing, never fail to evoke tears of nostalgia whenever savored. Luckily, the restaurant was deserted, allowing me to indulge heartily with my back turned to the kitchen. Yet, despite the solitude, a flood of homesickness lodged firmly in my throat. My mouth puckered, eyes brimming with warm tears, I swallowed hard, consuming not just the food but also a year's worth of pent-up longing and sorrow.