After dinner last evening, we walked through the pasar malam to get to the interchange. I stopped along the way to buy some tapioca cakes for my mum.
But the fragrant smell of tutus drew my attention.. I paused, and watched as the lady filled the cast with flour, then coconut filling, then heat the tutus up, again and again, one after another. And my mind turned to you, and that scorching afternoon when we squeezed through another pasar malam, when you had turned to me and told me how much you used to love tutus as a child.
So I stopped to buy some, because they reminded me of you.
I dont usually eat tutus these days. They no longer make them as well as they used to. Too much flour, too little filling, not heated long enough. But as I walked my way home, the ones I had in hand, tasted quite sweet.