The soft hush of rain and the hard smack of lips. It could be a summer romance but I don’t have to tell you that it is not. It is breakfast time at Man Kee.
Seven black Formica tabletops, two dozen blue plastic chairs. I order my usual. The food is not really worth mentioning. A K-pop music video is playing on the wall mounted TV in the corner. There are Christmas lights hanging next to the altar for the god of money. On the ears, endless gossip about that woman’s son. Endless debate about the prices of goods you should have bought. It is always cheaper somewhere else.
You must escape, which is why I think this diner is the perfect place to read a romance novel, which is what I have set out to do this morning, which is how I ended up telling you this. The novel is by my favorite Japanese writer. She is as subtle as she is powerful. The crux of love is what goes unsaid.
Ten chapters in total, each told from the perspective of one of the protagonist’s lovers at different stages of their life. Each a full-blown romance in and of itself. Hesitation. Mixed Signals. Elation. Complications. Conflicting Advice. No right answers yet still Decisions Must Be Made. I find myself chomping on the straw of my iced coffee.
Each chapter written from the perspectives of different lovers from different points across someone’s lifetime? What was I thinking? You can be sure that I am sighing up a storm. Middle school. High school. University. Early career. Whatever the 30s are called. Middle age. Late life. Death. This thing reads like sailing the high seas in a monsoon. So many ups and downs. It is getting almost too close to home, steer clear!, and yet my sighs continue to push the sails forth. They billow. But nobody pays me any mind because nobody hears my sighing because the K-pop singer on TV is crooning the word “sexual” over and over again.
The chapter ends. Someone burps. I remember where I am.