She closed her eyes tight, lips curved downwards when her shaking fingers pinched the mixed rice.
It was warm, but not scalding. It was squishy and a bit slimy and slippery. Yet she found she was not repulsed as she thought she would be. In fact, she was finding the new experience . . . comforting? The rice was smooth and soft like it would melt with the tinniest force. She didn't know it was like that. Was it special rice?
She opened her eyelids, curiosity in her eyes. Like a kid's first time exploring the soft sand on the beach, she watched how her fingers interact with the tiny glistening pebble of grains.
