So, it was a day before my birthday and I was traveling home by a bus. With me is this big shawarma that i have all the intent to eat down to the last drip of sauce.
I chose to sit beside this not-so cute guy. The bus was moving, silence prevailed for the 2 of us except for the crumpling sound of plastic wrapper - that sheathed my food - every time I took a bite. I ate all of it until all that was left was the onion-y smell that wafted in the small space between us. Trust me, do not eat this kind of food in public. The smell lingers. And then we passed by this old church and the bus came to halt. Then to my shock, at the same exact moment, we both lifted our respective right hand - him to make a sign of cross... I to pick the parcel of food that stuck between my teeth. That's when I knew he was catholic...
Not my proudest moment, I should say.
in a far-far away land... a fairytale unfold... there is this hopeless romantic lass... and this is her story...
