prose: reminiscing breakfast at 7pm (sometimes 7:30)

Soooo last month.

It was already 8pm. He had just eaten a few pieces of char kuey and a murtabak.
Maneuvering his lithe body amidst the grocery boxes he had packed with his junk accumulated in the duration of 6 years of his study, he sashayed his way to the corner skeletal plastic tubes-and-plywood shelves he called his wardrobe. And it is still not empty.

Still a lot to do, he thought, rather panicky. Yesterday he received an SMS from a friend saying, ‘Congrats, grad jugak u at last. Dtg KL skarang.’ Touching, and just the motivation to get him start packing with haste.
Gosh, I’ll never make it at 9!

A ring from his handphone.
“You dah sampai mana?”
“I belum abis kemas”, he replied amidst giggles of embarrassment. He would now be almost always known as the guy who is always slow. “ I rasa I bertolak esok pagi la. Tengahari sampai la kot.”
“You make sure sampai sempat bukak puasa. Flight I kena patah balik sebab ribut. So I’m stuck here. At least dapat jugak jumpa you. Divine intervention jek!”

The next day he embarked on his postponed journey up north at noon (he had just finished packing). His car was like a caravan, every available space encroached to the brim. Taking last glimpses of papers scattered by mini cyclones in the empty spaces of his rented former residence he sighed under heavy breath, This is it. My last walk from here. This place isn’t so wretched after all. So many fond memories too. His brief melodrama was intercepted by a vibration in his pocket.

That phone call again.
“You dah sampai ke?”
“I baru jek bertolak!”
“I dah agak dah”
“Ala…dalam pukul 4 sampai le..sempat punya”
“You make sure aa... We all dah nak prepare prepare ni.”
“Ok. Sampai kang I call.”

Despite all the packing drama, the ride and road seemed to be bottle-neck-free. Perfect, in fact - light drizzle, light traffic (the Raya exodus have not yet started) and travel soundtrack by Dewa. That is, until he stopped to answer nature’s call at Flyover Ayer Keroh.

He came back to the car, turned on the key and – no ignition. Shit.
Now what am I going to do? He tried finding the rest area’s manager only to find his room vacant. So instead, he calmly called the PLUS emergency line like he usually did (this is not the 1st time he encountered car problem on the highway). The only thing that bothers him now is time.

The PLUS team arrived an hour and a half later only to push his car to start ignition (which he can actually ask just about anybody at the rest area-DUH!)

A half hour before breakfast he arrived at The Venue, the smell of cooking and familiar voices indoors were never more welcoming. A glad smile arched his lips. He entered, salam amidst boisterous cheerful enquiries and gave a hug. He looked at their faces.

Such a warm nest this is.