Just stopping in

Main Noodle House on Sixth Avenue near 38th Street is the kind of place one stumbles into solely on the momentum of famish.

Do the red and gold decorations on the wall exist? We might never know, because who would waste a moment to look up.

In Main Noodle House on Sixth Avenue near 38th Street, they get what they need - a swift production of food, and more importantly, a well-kept promise of voracious, rapid consumption without fear of being recognized, observed or engaged.

When it’s over, they will leave as quickly as they came, without the slightest memory of what transpired or how. They’ll reemerge into their hopelessly busy empty day, at least now passing through it with the familiar comfort of a heavy, satiated stomach.

And that is good enough for today. It usually always is.

The barista in the coffee shop asks her what she would like. She responds with a gaze into her eyes so deep that says on its own, thank you for asking about my psychological well-being; that hasn’t happened in a while. After an infinite two second moment, she says, “hi. How are you?”

“I’m exhausted. But, I’m here.”

“Yeah, me too. Double espresso, please.”


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