The Why Of It

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I am seldom asked the why of things.

It requires a certain level of bravery to ask exactly why, as opposed to asking a what, or even a how.

We were having dinner at this red leather and heavy wood Chinese restaurant, just two girls on overtime, making sure their hunger is taken cared of. The weight of those words in her question of why seemed to hum for a moment across the table, perfectly balanced over the spring rolls and the steaming bowl of noodles.

She was the only one who dared to ask why.



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