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Fiction

Deep red script scrawled “Nina’s Buffet” at the top. I had never heard of it and the name gave me little idea of what delicacies I would find. A Mexican buffet was not something I had tried but the idea sounded splendid. Typically the waiter would’ve handed me the menu but I picked it up myself, imagining the service was up to par as I cleared a black smudge off the cracked clear coating. There were no seats, but I didn’t mind standing and admiring the variety of meals I could order. I wouldn’t even mind standing in a corner to eat. No sense was needed to make me salivate, as my eyes scanned the words, my mind doing the rest of the work. Visions of earthy brown rice, soft pillowy shells, spice-loaded meats, and oozy white cheese covering everything infiltrated my mind. Perfectly fried and flaky chips combined with the sweet and spicy tang of salsa came next. Finally, there were a variety of beans, specialty drinks, and sweet desserts topped with whipped cream, honey, or cinnamon. I couldn’t pry my eyes away as my mind raced feverishly with each word. Frenzying with imagination as I was taken with the tenacity of an erotic novel. 

The pleading of my stomach broke me from my stupor. Releasing me from heaven and returning me to misery, because none of that was real. There was no restaurant, food, or waiter to serve me. Only the menu existed in my hands but even it was deteriorating like my will to live. If only I’d never found it, but like a crow, I picked at fabrics, parchments, and lustrous things that beckoned me from the rubble. On the outside, you would’ve never guessed this was once a plentiful restaurant. All that remained was a pipeline and this flimsy scrap of paper. Everything else was turned to ash by the dragon's breath and molded back together with acid rain.

“How did you survive?” I mused to no one. I felt that we were one in the same, the menu and I. My skin was also thin yet rough around the edges. Weathered by the elements and cracking from age. Veins squiggled just below the surface like the scripting of the words. I wanted to keep it. To treasure it. To read it again and come back to the memory of restaurants and civility, as if it would save me. 

“Whatcha got there?” A new voice rang through the air, yet it was one I was familiar with as it always came with a questioning tone. Soshi.

“Nothing,” I replied, flicking the menu out of my hand to let it rest on the ground once more. It felt like I was discarding a dream, but it wasn’t one worth hanging on to. I knew it would eventually destroy me. It was better to forget what the world had been like before.

Soshi, young and agile, snatched the menu out of the air. “What is it?” I watched her gaze curiously at the font and trace her finger over the words in an attempt to understand. “A love letter!” Her gasp earned my chuckle. Her fancy for love in a world that was dying was one thing that kept me going. 

“No,” I stated, turning the menu right side up in Soshi’s hands so she could look at it correctly. “A business letter.“ 

“Abou-”

I cut her off before her next question. “About really boring stuff. Like taxes and money and the government.” I hoped she would drop it. That saying big words that Soshi didn’t have the slightest idea about, would kill her curiosity, but she gazed back at me, ever more quizzical.

“I wish I could read it.” Soshi turned her blue eyes back to the paper, willing it to make sense. “I want to read.” She muttered again.

I sighed, relieved she didn’t ask me to read the menu. “I will teach you. We just have to find the right materials. Like books.” It was hard to teach when you’ve never been a teacher and all the materials in the world had been destroyed. “Let’s see if we can find some today on our travels?” I suggested reaching out my hand for her to take.

“But I want to read the letter. Maybe it is about love?” Soshi pleaded “It looked like it made you happy.”

She was right, this girl could read me, even if she couldn't read a book. “Not happy, just nostalgic.” I leaned down and took the menu once again, scanning over it. Things that make you happy are not always good for you. “Here. I’ll put it here so it can make someone else happy.” I rested the menu on the only flat surface of the crumbling sidewalk and used a small rock to weigh it down.

This seemed to please Soshi, as she took my hand and walked along with me without resistance. “What does nosta- nostalic mean?” Her questions were endless.

“Nostalgic.” I corrected her “It’s like a memory of a different time. But more like a feeling? You know what, we better find a dictionary to help me explain that one.” I led her over more destruction, black soot seeping around the edges of my shoes.

"Okay." She giggled, pausing to pull out a map from her backpack to help us navigate the town we were in. This young girl had saved me and I hoped I was doing the right thing by not being honest. I wanted to save her too. In a way maybe the menu was a love letter, to my heart. I just couldn’t bear to read it aloud, for fear that I wouldn’t again be able to eat the rubbish things we did to survive. Maybe that made me selfish but there was no point in torturing Soshi with a world of things she had never experienced. I would try hard to forget the restaurant and Nina’s name in hopes of never returning.

September 05, 2022 17:53

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RBE | Illustration — We made a writing app for you | 2023-02

We made a writing app for you

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