The Roadside Feast and Sweet Memories

As we passed through a quiet village after leaving the palm grove, the enticing aroma of fried snacks wafted through the air. My stomach growled in protest, empty and demanding attention.

I wanted fried snacks—no, needed them. Surely, Ma Aye Phyu must be hungry too. Since finishing her exams, she'd had nothing but a single glass of lime juice. I wanted to treat her, to see her smile over something as simple as food.

But a quick check of my pocket reminded me of the cruel reality—I had only one coin left.

"Ko Thaung Myint, how much money do you have on you?" I asked, half-joking, half-desperate.

"None," he replied casually. "Why, are you planning to bill me for this ride?"

"Come on, you were supposed to bring some money! I told you to get some before we left," I said, exasperated.

"Listen, Maung Soe," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "I'm already carting you around for free, and now you're telling me I have to foot the bill too? Talk about generosity!"

"Hey, we didn't plan any of this! We ran off without thinking. I'll pay you back later!" I shot back, trying to defend myself.

He laughed loudly, the sound booming across the road. "You're always so serious! Don't worry about it. You're lucky I had a good morning—I got two orders earlier, so here's something for your trouble."

With that, he reached into the waistband of his longyi and pulled out a neatly folded bill—a fifty-kyat note.

"Here, take it," he said, handing it to me.

I took the money with a grateful nod, locking eyes with him for a brief moment. Words of thanks hung on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed them back. He wasn't the kind to want flowery expressions of gratitude.

The Roadside Feast

We stopped the cart outside the small snack shop, where the golden-brown fritters sizzled invitingly in a pan of oil. The aroma was intoxicating, making my hunger all the more unbearable.

As soon as the snacks were served, we dug in. The crispiness of the fried dough, combined with the savory flavor, was nothing short of perfection. The food filled a void in my stomach—and my soul.

Ma Aye Phyu ate with gusto, unashamed of her hunger. Her carefree attitude only made me more fond of her. Sitting there, watching her enjoy the meal without reservation, I felt a wave of quiet happiness wash over me.

This wasn't just any meal; it was a moment—a memory I knew I would carry forever.

As we resumed our journey, my worries faded like the receding heat of the sun. The day seemed blessed with peace and joy, free of the burdens that had weighed on me before.

For the first time, it didn't feel like we were running away. It felt like we were on a spontaneous adventure, a journey filled with sweetness and laughter.

Ko Thaung Myint glanced back at us, a smirk tugging at his lips. "So, how was it, lovebirds? Feeling better now?"

Ma Aye Phyu let out a soft laugh and lightly tugged on my sleeve, her eyes sparkling. I joined in her laughter, the warmth of the moment infectious.

The cart trundled along, carrying us down the dusty path under the endless sky. My thoughts drifted, imagining this as more than just a simple journey.

What is this if not a honeymoon? I thought with a grin. A simple, joyous escape, with love filling the air like honey dripping from a comb.

This wasn't just a trip—it was a memory painted with the vibrant hues of happiness, a chapter in my life I would never forget.