Of late, I’ve noticed myself looking forward to my visits to KK Mart. I walk around every single aisle on the pretext of looking for something- on a mission to find the missing piece that would make my day complete.
By now I know where everything is located, but every now and then, they seemed to change it up, probably to make things more interesting, after all, predictability carries along a certain death, and those who can’t adapt, perish, making way for others.
On my lucky days, I’d get to eavesdrop on an interesting conversation or two; on other days, I am too late for the last loaf of bread.
Today, while holding two different packets of flavoured seaweed in my hands, I sensed the onset of the usual existentialist questions: Who am I? What is the point of existence? What am I doing in KK Mart on a Sunday? And given that seaweed had existed for hundreds of millions of years ago, surely it possessed more wisdom than me?
Then the overcast sky started rumbling, and I suddenly remembered the half-eaten muffin in the fridge. I placed the packets of flavoured seaweed safely back on the shelf and left.