“ I’m not sure about that “ Mirza’s face falls
“ Well. I’ll just have to change your mind then. Now, come with me “
He walks her over to a grassy knoll. He lays out a blanket, setting various containers of food across it. Some are jars of spaghetti, some of the lasagna. He then adds a candle and lights it.
“ You hungry, Kirania? “
“ Starved …”
“ Then, please allow me to do the honors, Madame … “ he spoons some of the spaghetti onto a plastic plate and hands her the food. She takes a bite of the spaghetti. Mirza waits on tenterhooks for her response.
“ Well? “
“ Well… it’s fine, I guess “
“ Fine? Yeah, that was the reaction I was going for “ his tone is biting and sarcastic, but she just shrugs. She has not willing to give him that satisfaction yet.
“ Who taught you to cook, anywa
