I love my corridor mates

Stacy and i were pathetically eating our microwaved meals and Hussian and his friend started to chat us up. Hussian stays in my corridor and he always cooks like indian food, hes from Pakistan. So he offered us his curry rice. Pure and simple, Curry + rice. He so generously served it to me on my sad looking microwave plate and of course being asian i didnt want to take so much. IMMA KNOW MY CHINESE LIMITS. Damn was the rice good! The spice, it struck, so much favour. But i feel not just the rice, rather the hospitality behind the rice. The warmness of Hussian. Just this jolly fellow, being so nice to us. Without a reason, just because we are here in the cooridoor.

And i think to myself, thank you God. You are good.

 DA cooridoor right outside my door

 hope this doesnt conjure any horror story imagery