City of Shared Stories
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“Yes, see you in a while,” Mrs C said before replacing the receiver.
“Who was that?” her husband asked, cupping a hand over the back of his ear even though he'd been wearing a hearing aid for a few years now. Some habits were hard to change.
“CF and family,” she told him. Her nephew and family, visiting from the States. It’d been many years since he stayed with them, when he was in town to collect his US visa.
Thirty minutes later, a taxi stopped in front of the shop and a visibly older CF stepped out, followed by his wife and son.
“Wow, very expensive cab ride!” he said after greeting his aunt and uncle.
It’d been many years since he stayed in the shop. His aunt took him on a “tour” while her husband stayed to "jaga" the shop. The smells brought back some long forgotten memories.
“You remember the time I opened a durian with my leather shoe?” he asked his aunt in the kitchen. She didn’t. Her children might, but they were away at work today.
Upstairs, it was all still the same. Same rooms, same furniture. Same half wall enclosing the common wash area and offering an expansive view of the area behind the shop. He walked up to it, took in the view, thought it still looked like something out of a Charles Dickens novel, and did a double take at a familiar tall building in the distance.
“That’s our hotel!” he exclaimed. “Just a straight walk from here. Can’t be more than 10 minutes. The cab driver took some long-winded way and charged us twenty dollars to bring us here!”
“Who was that?” her husband asked, cupping a hand over the back of his ear even though he'd been wearing a hearing aid for a few years now. Some habits were hard to change.
“CF and family,” she told him. Her nephew and family, visiting from the States. It’d been many years since he stayed with them, when he was in town to collect his US visa.
Thirty minutes later, a taxi stopped in front of the shop and a visibly older CF stepped out, followed by his wife and son.
“Wow, very expensive cab ride!” he said after greeting his aunt and uncle.
It’d been many years since he stayed in the shop. His aunt took him on a “tour” while her husband stayed to "jaga" the shop. The smells brought back some long forgotten memories.
“You remember the time I opened a durian with my leather shoe?” he asked his aunt in the kitchen. She didn’t. Her children might, but they were away at work today.
Upstairs, it was all still the same. Same rooms, same furniture. Same half wall enclosing the common wash area and offering an expansive view of the area behind the shop. He walked up to it, took in the view, thought it still looked like something out of a Charles Dickens novel, and did a double take at a familiar tall building in the distance.
“That’s our hotel!” he exclaimed. “Just a straight walk from here. Can’t be more than 10 minutes. The cab driver took some long-winded way and charged us twenty dollars to bring us here!”
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