On Rainy Nights | Mark Tuan

◦Unexpected◦

"Thank you for your purchase." I smiled awkwardly as I handed the plastic bag to the customer. 

The customer, an old lady, returned the smile and picked up the not-so-heavy plastic bag, like it was the heaviest thing she had ever carried, and trotted out through the exit.

It had been a few days since I had started working at the convenience store. After having a talk with the manager, I had settled for four hours of work, starting from 6 p.m.

My designation was actually the cash counter only, but when the manager used to take over, I'd take a stroll over the various rows and fix overturned or misplaced food stuffs.

And I enjoyed going all this too, I was so accustomed to having at least one part time job that without one, I felt like I was not living life at all.

The overhead buzzer went off signalling the end of yet another hour and also the end of my shift. I craned my neck and looked around the various aisles for any remaining customers.

Spotting no one but other workers, I went into the changing room and changed out of my work clothes. I packed all my stuff and started to leave. Seeing the manager near the door, I gave him a long bow and shuffled outside.

As soon as I walked out, I was hit by a chilly gust of wind, as if it were telling me to rush back home. I dug my hands further into my windcheater, wrapping it around my body for dear life.

Even though it was pretty late, the street still had a good amount of people.

I passed men in suits with briefcases in hand, a few high school girls, giggling among themselves, probably returning from cram school and couples holding hands and just people, walking casually, enjoying their solidarity.

When was the last time I had the opportunity to quietly drink in these common sights, I couldn't even remember.

I passed the park, its gate coloured a bright yellow with various cartoon characters on it, shut with a big lock put on it. The street light just beside the gate, somehow made the image of those characters lonely.

For the past few days, the milk delivery girl left a bottle of milk on my front door everyday without fail, alternating the flavours between strawberry and banana.

The days I drank strawberry, made me feel bubbly and fuzzy inside, like million bubbles inside of me were bursting in delight, shouting 'here comes a new day!'

The days I drank the banana one, left a lingering taste of tranquility in my mouth. I usually had a laidback, relaxed feeling, knowing everything was going to go the way it should.

I finally caught her the afternoon before, inside the park. She was on top of the monkey bars, a childish expression on her face as she ocassionally licked her ice-cream.

I then nabbed the opportunity to ask her name, but she just shook her head and replied with a "Why does it matter what my name is? Our names are just for identity's sake, they don't define who we are."

I reached the road just below my apartment, my mind was preoccupied over with ramyum flavour would treat my taste buds best today.

It wasn't until I looked up, when I heard hushed voices. It didn't take me long to realize that those voices were coming from my terrace.

I froze in my tracks, in attempt to make out what was being said. When that didn't work, I nervously made my way up the stairs.

I cautiously walked up, trying not to make any sound. The landlady had already gone off to sleep, as no sounds of the television echoed through the thin walls as it did everytime I passed that way.