Just moments ago I tried to reheat my coffee in a kitchen cabinet. I swayed sleepily into the kitchen, yanked open a kitchen cupboard, deposited my mug between the jar of pink Himalayan salt and packages of potato starch and panko, and then I waited. Moments later, I realized it was the kitchen cabinet and NOT the microwave, and that I had nestled my cup of coffee in between dried goods. Moments after that, the blood rushed to my ears.
Had anyone seen me? No, it was quiet, except for the resonant hum of the refrigerator. Phew.
Weeks ago, the restaurant that my younger brother held his reception at last June – the same one where his wife made a scene and refused to cut the cake until my sister and I was ushered away – shut down. I bumped into him the other day, bringing my car to our dads’ for a check-up, and I mentioned it to him in passing because I had nothing else to talk to him about, and that was the first thing that popped in my mind.
“Did you hear that La Papaya, or whatever you call that place you had your reception at, shut its doors?”
My brother’s face turned into stone. His face could have been a Buddha statue head sitting in a garden covered in weeds for all I knew. Omae kokoro chiisee na, he said. You’re freaking petty. Me, petty? No, no, no my friend. Tell that to your waifu. Instinctively, I balled up my fists, but our mom came out on the porch with an eager smile to greet us. Her hair was cropped into a round helmet that stuck close to her skull. I was startled into laughter, and the moment had passed for me to send my knuckles flying into my brother’s Buddha face.
That event replayed in my mind, while I was standing alone in the kitchen in my slip, holding onto a cup of coffee I had tried to microwave in a kitchen cabinet, my ears burning from humiliation. I wondered, could my Buddha brother (and maybe even his half-German waifu) be right about me? That I was one freaking petty specimen of a human being. Had I really let go of the resentment I held over their wedding day when I was spurned at the reception in front of all those people, and so by mentioning that the place they had cherished and chosen to ply their friends with cheap alcohol and tolerable Mexican food barely lasted a year after their wedding, I was in some way taking a dig at their relationship?
Then I yawned, and that fleeting uncertainty that gnawed at me fled with it. My intentions were once again misunderstood. Just like the long gone Fridge tyrant who tried to pin fault on me for draping my sweater over the office chair. Just like the dozens of people who filtered in and out of my life. And now that I’ll be turning thirty at the end of August, I feel no desire to flag down the irate and bitter to explain. All I was left with was the sad fact that I had tried to microwave a beverage in a kitchen cabinet.
As for intentions, I meant well when I said we were to release on May 30-31. It didn’t happen. I could try to make more excuses, but I won’t. Let’s just let these releases speak for themselves. Read ’em and weep.
3 AM Dangerous Zone Final Chapter: Yes, Momoko and Tagaya may still be sharing an oyakodon together, but things are different now that it’s finally coming to an end. Oh, I’ll miss this crew so freaking much! See you all again in 3 AM Terrible Zone!
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Gad Sfortunato ch.6: Lapin Peluche (our Russian bosom buddies) and Minelauva, I can’t thank you guys enough for bringing this project to completion. I, BL-avoider that I am, enjoyed this one IMMENSELY. I’m even a little sad to see it go…
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Gad Sfortunato ch.7 Final Chapter: Download | Read Online