"Plop" "Ok done!!" We looked at the time in indifference. It was already 9pm, and the eggs were getting cold. That's possibly the seventh pot we cooked that night. Sister was really hungry, my brother and I looked at each other, trying to telepathically send a message that chances are for the rice to get burned this time again, is equally the same with the previous six times. His head popped up from the door with the pot this time, and a huge grin. "Ok we can eat now!" He planted the pot down on the table, and we stood up, looked in and to our shock it really didn't get burned another time. It became porridge instead. I looked at him. And he looked at us, trying not to look sorry, trying not to make it any more sombre. When he's in charged, we eat the strangest of things. Durian with rice. Dried pork with rice. Dried pork with Sprite. Coffee with rice. Strangest of things. And each and everytime we had to try out these "old schoo
Travel the world with me to the ends of Europe right to my home in Borneo; while still keeping my job!