Hello, can we have dinner tomorrow?

 Hello, can we have dinner tomorrow?

When she wrote this sentence on the paper, she sat in a flannelette chair and looked at her window, stunned for a long time.

Its time for dinner.

A meal, eat happily.

Seeing the fish, he said, well, cosmetology, you eat well. See Cong and say, Ill eat well, you are strong.. See tofu, say, white, buy some back to stew fish head.

There are pepper, garlic, onion and ginger, which can give them the best service.

She looked at him and thought he was so close.

In the rented small room, cooking in the electromagnetic stove, the heat came out.

Its still a little spicy.

He finally picked up her head and kissed her.

At that time, she felt that life didnt need so much.

A bed,

You can live contentedly.

He asked her, what will happen in the future?

Maybe its just one more person to eat, she said

She swallows the days day by day in those kind human fireworks, warm oil, salt, soy sauce and vinegar, tinkling pots and pans.

Come on, come and have a taste, will you?

He raised the spoon and cried. The sound is just out of the pot. Its hot. Warm and harmonious.

The spatula is handed over, and a piece of hot stuff is poured on the side.

She goes over, bites, chews.

Strong taste, suddenly in the tip of the tongue scurrying, involuntarily rising, to the top of the palate after the spread, the brain is wooden for a while

Ho, delicious!

She looked at him,

Looking at the dishes in front of you,

Feel warm right now.

Men and women, who have so many human wishes. Its nothing more than four seasons of the year, three meals a day, two people in one room, one dish and one vegetable.

Because of the good mood, the dishes are all right.

The fish was steamed, put ginger and onion, sprinkled sauce, taste clean, soft and plain.

As soon as the thin meat porridge is imported, people are saved. Its slightly thick, hot, fragrant, rich, and its half a bowl. The viscera seem to have been massaged.

Brown sugar steamed bread has not come out of the pot. Its so fragrant that its scurrying around the room.

He asked three times. Are you familiar?

Stir fry Niuhe to get more oil, add red pepper and green garlic, and beef sliced into thin slices. In the hot pot, roll it a few times more. Its well done and tastes deep.

She drinks red date milk tea, and he drinks tartary buckwheat with snacks.

Dusk is suddenly late, life is like someone elses life.

She thought at that time, maybe happiness is to eat the endless feast slowly with one person.

After eating, we cant eat any more.

Just say, lets go to heavens restaurant and try the taste.

However, some changes finally happened.

She naturally worries.

He repeatedly promised that I am not used to hamburger coffee, or I am used to eating porridge made with you.

The implication is that he will come back.

At first, they talked day by day.

The cafe on the corner added a kind of croissant.

Talk about how rough the food is in a foreign country.

She learned the 18th way of potato.

Talking about him in a strange bar, accidentally drunk

But at last, the more we talked, the less we talked.

One day, while she was eating dinner alone, she suddenly remembered that he had not heard from him for a week.

He didnt say.

She asked repeatedly.

He just perfunctorily, mm-hmm-oh.

She knew that the real parting had come. Only now did she react.

The years have cooled all the delicacies, and the rest are silent scraps.

One works, one goes shopping, one goes to the cinema, one goes to dinner.

Its still that room.

The clear light, the quiet and timid night, the shadow cast on the plate, can hear the Dang.

Its almost a panic.

Life is hopeless.

She turns on her cell phone, finds a suitable restaurant and a suitable person in the nearby food.

There are many restaurants.

Nearly a year after the break-up, she was going to eat the restaurant they had eaten together again.

Like a grave for the dead.

But when I got to the third house, I couldnt support it. Feels like self abuse.

The last one I went to was a romantic western restaurant. There are fairy tale characters carved in resin.

There is a sculpture beside her seat. There are two villains, one is a shoemaker and the other is a girl.

This is Andersens storyu2014u2014

Later, the girl became a musician, while the man was still a shoemaker.

At dawn, there was a snow fall. He fell asleep. Under this willow tree, with love, I died under the old willow tree in a foreign country

People in the story, people outside the story, all have similar sadness.

There is a similar inability.

Half an hour later, the delicate porcelain plate held a piece of meat and brought it up. A piece of meat and mud, with spaghetti, and white soup.

The fragrance is wispy.

In the goblet, the red light converges, reflecting a gray, tear stained face.

All over the place, people came and went, like tropical fish, swimming through the window in groups.

The sky dropped exclamation marks.


Not far away, a boy stood under the eaves. His forehead was dripping with water, and his denim shirt was soaked in black.

She watched in silence.

Time was slow and wet, and it slipped a little bit.

Five minutes later, ten minutes later, he still did not move, just occasionally looked around. Its like waiting for someone.

She was so dumbfounded that I couldnt find anyone to wait for.

She finally ate the steak.

The knife cut a thin slice.

She felt something was missing.

Whats missing? Something interesting.

Those things are about mood.

Its a more advanced condiment than any other condiment. As long as we add in the mediocre food, there are graceful ups and downs and blooming.

Suddenly, someone was sitting on the table next to her.

She saw that it was the boy in the rain.

It seems that someone broke the appointment. He was furious and yelled at the mobile phone: the 5th time, I dont want to serve...

She looked at him again.

I happened to meet him and turn around. My eyes hit him.

He shouted defiantly, havent you seen such a freak?

She smiled, no, Im a freak.

Pigeons, too?

She bowed her head and smiled bitterly.

They just had a candle and two cups of coffee to gossip.

Its not about identity,

He said he paid.

She also said years of waiting.

The night is getting deeper. The lights are dim.

His figure is half in the light and half in the shadow. Like a gossip fish. She swallowed the bitter and sweet liquid and suddenly felt that the coffee here was also good.

When she stood up to leave for home. Leave a wechat, he said

Why wechat?

Of course she knows why. Adult men and women, knowing. Simple, will think of understanding. More complicated, think of sex.

Tomorrow, can we have dinner together? His answer was so candid and warm that she was surprised.

She froze for a moment.

The world is indifferent and the night is desolate. Finally someone comes to her and says, would you like to have dinner together??

Finally, someone is willing to take diet as the way, try to reach her world.

The taxi goes through Guangzhou at midnight. She looked out of the window quietlyu2014u2014

The night market is still open.

Another night.

This city is so big that it will never become an empty city because of one persons leaving.

Thousands of people are still searching here.

In fact, life is nothing more than two people, with love as ingredients, love as drink, time as fire, cooking pot after pot of food.

If he is willing to go into the kitchen for you and cook fireworks for the rest of his life, four seasons scenery and grains, it is called love.

This man, that man.

So, lets have dinner tomorrow, OK?