Hot Pot Rendezvous

Her eyes are stopped, starring at the colourful movement inside the hotpot. I look at her and she smiles, she is lost. As I think of it, my eyes stop, starring at the boiling water in the hot pot. The water moves up, as an hot spring with cabbage. The flow of the light brown hot water around the leaves of cabbage draws ever changing patterns. The bubbles fight, explode and disappear. The white pieces of fish move slowly around the center of the spring while the tofu cubes drawn. I stop at the center of the spring, the bubbles going up and around in a spiral movement. I follow the flow hypnotized.

How long have I been starring at this spring? How long have I been following the water course through the cabbage leaves? How long can I be here in this hot pot universe of creation and movement? The visual pleasure is intense as some pieces of tomato come around: bright red in this light brown landscape. The intensity fades away as I start thinking about it. How do I look? Are they looking at me? I met them a few hours ago, I must look strange. I should smile! As my social worries grow I raise my eyes from the hot pot. Our friends are talking and laughing. I look at her and she is still in the same position hypnotized by the hot pot.

How long have we been here? Did you see these bubbles? These waves of spicy soup? I touch her elbow and I smile to her. She raises her starring eyes from the hot pot and looks at me as she was awaking from a dream. Her lips move in the direction of a smile. Slowly, with no words, she moves her chopsticks inside the hot pot and picks the central piece of cabbage. The centre is now made of bubbling water and I can still remember the last drop of water falling from the cabbage she took: it fell exactly in the center of the pot, a bomb falling in a volcano. Our friends laugh together as we eat in silence starring at the hot pot. We are lost.