Often, imagination looms large. The deceased cockroach-- or drunk?-- lay still right in front of me-- ahem! right inside the condiment container extremely close to my meal! Just a couple of seconds ago, I scooped some chilli sauce from it, which was either the cockroach's tomb or its cozy bed. But one thing is doubtless: neither of the possibilites comforted my nausea- stricken stomach a little bit. Though the food stand owner at once substituted a new one with fumbling efforts, I felt like throwing up all the way through the meal. I knew clearly that the cockroach was gone, but it was never removed from my heart for even a split second. A sickening imagination kept lurking around: it scurried to and fro within my rapidly-churning stomach, showily wavering its antenna.... Nonethelss, I was at last done with my meal, for the hunger-invested stomach really weighed heavier than the nausea-stricken one. At this very moment in time, I'm regretting for my blunder. I should not have resumed the meal, had it not been for my wailing, empty stomach. Oh, wait a minute! It is moving! -- Anything worth doing is worth doing well. --

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