Chapter 1.6 - Only the early bird...
When she arrived at her place, a package was waiting for her in her home delivery box. Taking it inside, she placed it onto her table while sitting down on the tatami mat beneath it. Upon opening it, she found a batch of sweet potatoes and a huge tea container filled with packaged fortune cookies. Bewildered about the combination, she consulted the note attached to the contents. It was from her grandfather, who happily wrote about his first harvest of the year. It took until the last p.s. line for the fortune cookies to be mentioned. Apparently, her mother had started making them together with a group in their local neighborhood association. The plan was to sell them in one of their local events at a food stall or something similar this month.
Mirei removed the container from the delivery box and took one of the cookies out. Every one of them was sealed airtight in a half-transparent plastic foil. The packaging looked almost commercial, but behind the milky dullness the shape looked a bit crude in places. The end of a little piece of paper stuck out of an unevenly aligned edge. It looked cute in a homely way. Mirei found herself brightening up. It was just the snack she needed for a simple dinner. She swiftly opened one of them, cracked it in half and started eating it. After stuffing the second half into her mouth, she straightened out the paper strip.
<Only the early bird catches the worm.>
Mirei stared at the line and her eyebrows started to form a frown. Dubiously, she opened another fortune cookie, and then another and another.
<Only the early bird catches the worm.>
<Only the early bird catches the worm.>
<Only the early bird catches the worm.>
<Only the early bird catches the worm.>
When she grabbed the sixth one, she found herself clenching it instead of opening it. It slowly turned into a fist that crushed it. The air exploded out of the bag, and she only had crumbles below the foil. When she opened her hand again, the paper strip in between the cookie pieces was only half visible, but Mirei already knew what it said.
All the comfortable warmth she felt a moment ago had completely vanished. She felt like a cold bucket of water had been thrown over her. This was the last thing she needed. Not after today, of all days.
Had she been ten or fifteen years younger she may have been on the blink of tears, but right now biting her lip was the only thing she allowed herself.
After sitting still like that for several minutes, Mirei clenched her hand into a fist again and made a throwing motion. She stopped midair. Her angled arm grew limp, and she let it fall. Noticing that she was still biting her lip, and it started to hurt she relaxed her jaw. The crumbled package fell onto the tatami mat and spilled some cookie crumbles. She bent over to pick them up.
<Only the early bird catches the worm.>
Once she saw the paper slip, she immediately flattened it with the palm of her hand. She felt the crushing sensation of the crumbles being pulverized. Slowly forming a fist again, her fingernails scratched the tatami board. Her thoughts started to wander.
(You want to know what you lack?)
Her fingers grabbed at the crumbles and the packages fiercely.
(Why not what you DON'T lack?)
Mirei felt the package beginning to cut into her palm. Opening her mouth, a whisper escaped.
“Why not what I…”
She never finished that sentence.
