A Dream and the Hourglass

The food was finger-licking good. I left Mr. Jen's place after he served me a cup of hot brewing lemon green tea and both of us shared some casual talks while sipping on it.

It was a refreshing stay genuinely, especially after having gone through so many confusing, muddling events, moments, like finding oversized clothes in my cupboard to turning down a gangsta guy in front of the whole campus, and those weird, odd whispers oath to never leave me alone.

"Thanks, Mr. Jen." I courteously said, bent forward as he wanted to pat me on my shoulder.

I preferred to call him by his name than use any titles, such as Uncle, Grandpa, and any other that would best suit his personality. I felt comfortable regarding him by his name. It appeared bizarrely fine to me. To my relief, he was not offended by it, as his facial expressions showed, he seemed to enjoy being called by his name just like some of his friends referred to him.

Realizing that at this point he needed the company of a friend more