How Stinky Tofu & A Pen United Three Strangers
Stinky Tofu- I Hate You! Stinky Tofu permeated the block. “I couldn’t smell the fried rice. The French Fries whiffed of Stinky Tofu. Not even the scent of fried Squid could be breathed in. Is there a Stinky Tofu tax for stall owners at the Taiwan Night Market ?" Her eyes pierced the roughness out of my soul. She wiggled free from his hand. Her feet tried to escape her body. Those eyes told me something important. She remembered where she was last Wednesday night. His cell phone distracted him. This put her at an advantage. She jumped to more adventurous ground. He held the box of Mr. Wu’s Pork Dumplings. Her purple sneakers landed on the concrete. She did not even stumble. She had made it, all the way to the sidewalk. She paused to acknowledge this feat. She waited for him to hang up th...