The leaves so green

It was a Sunday afternoon. The balcony was glittering in the sunshine, and some green plants had overgrown from the ground up to the balcony as they were planned to be a year ago. When the scooters didn't pass by, a piece of tranquility would descend, lasting for a while to such an extent that it seemed it could stay forever. The repose is never complete in a neighborhood like this in Kaohsiung. A city with more than 2 million populations brings people steadily living in the hustle and bustle.

Akiko first had a kind of déjà-vu when she arrived at the neighborhood. She thought she would immediately recollect the home feelings once she got off the MRT; to her surprise, it took a while for her to re-define everything she used to be familiar with.

It has been 3 weeks ago since she came back. Next week she has to go back, she thought. The boiling water reminds her of her unfinished duties in Europe; she sighs and puts the pasta into it. She has promised her father to make pasta for him.

“You sure you can make them?” her father asked smiley.
“Yes, of course, I'm very good at cooking. There is nothing difficult for me when it comes to cooking, " said Akiko with all the confidence falling on her face.
“Interesting how you have managed to do all that western stuff." Her father knuckled and left the kitchen.

A gentle breeze touches the unknown green plant on the balcony. So green, she thought. Summer in Kaohsiung seems so far away from her. There was a time when she and friends rode scooters, bombing along the way up to Shoushan, taking off their helmets when reaching on top. That coolness reaching on your face is like when your thirst is quenched by a glass of ice tea. So cool, so nice, so vivid that when she closes her eyes, she can easily transport herself back to that moment.

Pasta will be ready in a few minutes. Akiko quickly heats oil in the pan, adds chopped onion with chicken strips, fries them and adds cream at the end. Don’t know what father would say to this western stuff, she thinks and brings the pasta to the table.

“How do you like it?”She asks her father.
“Good, good, good…. I like it.”Her father keeps knuckling and quickly eats almost the whole pasta.
“You sure? You act a bit strange.”
“Yeah, yeah, really good.”