But the body knows better.
Mlem.
Then you say it, grinning: "Chính là muốn mlem chứ đó." chinh la muon mlem chu do
Mlem.
The universe, for a moment, reduces to this: the glisten on a bánh tráng trộn, the sugar crystals on a donut's lip, the edge of a spoon holding a swirl of condensed milk. Reason tries to intervene. "You just ate," it says. "It's not even mealtime." But the body knows better
A late night. A plastic stool on a Saigon sidewalk. A plate of ốc luộc (steamed snails) appears, fragrant with lemongrass. Your friend asks, "Aren't you full?" for a moment