Something Fishy -

She was flustered, breathless, asking if she could leave her huge bag of fishballs at our counter while she rushed to the toilet.

Twenty minutes passed.

The bags began to drip. A faint smell crept into the air.

I found a thermal bag.

I froze ice cubes.

An hour passed.

My sister went to the toilet to look for her—nothing.

I froze more ice cubes.

I was about to head out and buy some tea break and I assumed I saw her.

I went up to her —two huge shopping bags in her hands—and asked if she had left her fishballs at our counter earlier.

She looked at me and said,“Yes. It’s me.”

More than an hour has since passed.

"I thought you said you just needed the toilet, but you were gone for so long."

She stuck out her tongue and gasped in awkwardness when she saw what I done to her fishballs.

"You are so kind, and you still give me a bag and ice."

I looked at her eyeball like I want to poke her fishy fishballs in disbelief.

Did she plotted all these for her own conveniences?

She reminded me to always think thrice before I said, 'yes' to helping anyone the next time.

But can I?

KNN.

"Get up from the table when love is no longer being served."