A fresh bowl of actual. ACTUAL. FOOD. was right there in front of him. It was reeking of the smell of spices and warmth. The seller gave him a plastic green spoon. Its edges rough, bad in quality. Its plastic exterior could hardly be bent.
"You new here ?" The seller asked. He was focusing on making the batch of noodles for other customers. His swift hands crossed, the sieve dripped with the smell of chicken broth.
He must be popular with the ladies...
What is wrong with me ?
The broth's small traveled inwards and outwards, atrracting nearby joggers.
SLUURRPPP !!! The broth clinged towards the warm noodles, casting a waterfall of broth dose on Dirga's mouth.
AKH— !! Gah... huckk...Uhuk... Ah.. hah... His breaths shortened into small sharp tones.
"I'm... hah UKH !!" His small coughs caused the nearby eaters shift in their seat, getting away from him. The broth stuck up towards his nose, causing his hands to get the nearby tissues. The sound from the blows, ate awya at his small sliver of confidence.
"Hah... yeah.. sorry. What were you saying again ?" Dirga tried to get the answer out of the frozen seller. It reminded him of—
An ■■■... ahh.. what was he thinking again ?
"Ahh.. you deaf, kid ?" An old man with a hunched back approached the stall. His two hands were supporting his back. Occasionally, the old man straightened his posture, letting a few cracks of bone air to slip out. The onlookers were more focused on their own mind than the sight of a homeless Dirga.
Truly one, if not the only luckiest day he has been blessed with.
"This grandson of mine asked you a small, simple question. You can't answer it, huh ?" The old man opened one of his eyes. The glint of something maddening slipping through that cracks of a rigid, old body.
The old man walked towards the noodle seller. His right hand pat the seller's back. Showing a small scene of comradry towards him.
Grandson, huh ? Biologically or not ?
"Grandpa !! How you doin' ?!!" The seller hugged the old man's small body. The old man even seemed a bit small being in the vicinity of his grandson. His arms gripped tightly towards the figure he called grandpa. It was a heartwatming scene, really. Though if he has to say... it seems wildly uncalled for in a public setting.
'Especially since the seller is... literally still making noodles..' he muttered. A small pang of something he calls jealousy, festered inside his heart. Was it from his past ? Maybe. Or maybe.. being hugged by someone is something he wanted for so long...
No one really knows. Not even his own mind. His eyes relaxed. Though not from relief, but a small inkling that this feeling has long since been his company for a long... time.
'It's.. kinda unfair...' the thought lingered. It took home inside his mind. And a small squirming feeling in his stomach didn't help him.
He exhaled a small sigh. The image of a family has long since been out of his mind. The journey if gwtting even enough money to survive already put weight in his arms.
Not even enough money to call them. Though...
Is it really mandatory ?
The money he got today even wasn't enough to get this noodles... unless this seller wasn't pitying him.
It's just the fact of the situation now. And no embarassment can ban him from feeling full. Even if it means being seen as dirt by the giver.
Even if this fullness in his stomach is filled with the emptiness of dignity.
Not wanting to fester on the thought, he began to eat the noodles in silence. The noodles slipped up, out of the spoon creating a small splash in the broth. The noodles sinked towards the bottom. It was like seeing a sinking boat in one of those sad movies.
It was kind of pathetic really...
The seller came back, his expression more elated than yesterday. He cleaned the plates with a more relaxed state. His hands handling the dishcloth with a more softer look.
It seems he actually handled it well...
"Ohh right !! You ARE not from here aren'tcha ?" The seller continued their cut off conversation. He seems intent on getting all his coins from this freebie.
"Yeah... how did you know ?" As if it wasn't dang near obvious... stupid Dirga.
In this neighbourhood that seems to thrive on wealth, and love. The sight of a beaten down homeless man seems to taint it's perfect marble floors.
As if something unseen was shielding him, the onlookers hardly took note of the body that sat in one of those chairs. Sipping, eating broth. Craving flour as if it was it's most prized possesion.
Hardly, Dirga cared. His brain has given the ability of pride, a starving stomach. And no pride, nor food could stop the hunger gnawing at his chest.
It was just mocking him really.
"So... you like the broth ? Sorry about my grandpa. He was always like that." The seller chippered in his thought. His cheerful voice cut off the cables of thoughts.
Dirga rolled his eyes, unseen by the seller. He played with his spoon, swirling the mixture of spice and broth in a hipnotizing trance.
Unlike the usual hunger forcing him to eat like an animal, the sudden numb feeling sat inside his stomach. Occupying the space as if it had some right.
"Yeah.. no worries. I'm sure you two are a great family."
His sarcasm truly is his only ally.
"I... don't need to pay right ?" Dirga asked carefully, if his calculations are right. The seller would pity him and let him leave with a chase of a broom. Unfortunately, the seller did NOT mind his own bussiness. Instead, he looked him up and down, taking in the amount of grime and bruises on Dirga's body.
"Yeah..." He trailed off, leading a trail of unconfirmed answer.
"Just... finish the portion alright ?" The seller smiled.
Based on all his experience from his 20s life... that smile will not do him good in any life.