Hers to tame

QWEN

“Here we go, Qwen.”

Cassey, I guess was better in the kitchen than I ever was.

Making pasta as though I was up with the game of satisfying the craving of my thin, abnormal driver was the wrong way of making pasta.

She was innovative enough to make a combo that could be talked of when the dinner kicks off, while I assisted her with my proud ‘the kitchen is mine’ helping hands that she nearly rendered useless by doing nearly everything alone.

She got stuffs that would make the pasta delicious enough to be tagged Indian, though we both know that not everything that is Asian is Indian, because Indians are quite unique from there Asian counterparts.

She got periwinkles and some sea stuffs, and some weird vegies that were all cooked and placed in different plates, making us a pretty combo of meals in different plates, while the pasta was left white and unseasoned in a big bowl.

“Maybe we should take shots of what we made.” I was rather too excited to have the first good thing I ever ma