Fried Noodles

Despite having been (figuratively) dropped on my head and then (metaphorically speaking,) stomped on, I now have only the faintest scar and the slightest ache to remind me. Despite it, I made pan-fried noodles tonight. Sesame, with mushrooms and onions and broccoli. Certain changes in the "weather" aggravate the ache, make it sharper, like the pain in the knee of a rheumatic sailor. The wind changes and a whiff of sea air sets the past before my eyes. If I can't shut my eyelids fast enough the ache skips right through them into my mind and from there settles on my heart like that same old sailor settling into his chair after combing the beach all day. The weather changed this afternoon. Despite it, I fried noodles. I ate them, too.