dusk fire

I don't have to eat meals in Shanghai. I just walk down the street and grab something almost everywhere. Or a bowl of noddles or a little dish that I actually have to wait for in a small restaurant. But that's barely a meal. In any case, I wasn't necessarily confident this would work at fist; I just did it by accident and by default. But it all became clear that I was right to - maybe the second or third day I was in Shanghai.
I walked down some street in the relative vicinity of my hostel perhaps, or maybe it was somewhere else altogether. I can't remember. But when I saw this woman's eyes focused and lit onto her fire and wok and noodles, damned if I was going anywhere for the next five minutes or so. She added a dash of 5 or 6 things, and broke up the egg as she flipped the noodles over with a precision that was, frankly, shocking. Those lit eyes – I really don't see that too often. And certainly not from people cooking on the street.
As if it were any surprise, the food matched up. It really does work like that. Statistically speaking, passion leads to results. And that's something I'll believe unless you can grind it out of me over a period of long, painful, horrible years.