When I was a kid, there was a small supermarket in my neighbourhood.  Though it was called “supermarket”, the shop was more of a grocery store.

It was a very ordinary store. It had nothing special. On the first floor, they had fresh fruits, vegetables, meat, fish and such. I would be stuck in the aisle of sweets and snacks whenever I go to that store. Sometimes they had pop-up stalls in front of the store to sell seasonal items such as Ehomaki sushi roll or chocolates for Valentine’s Day. I would enjoy looking at some kitchen utensils from hardware peddlers.

On the second floor, they had household goods, a few magazines and some basic clothes. On the corner of the same floor, there was a dry cleaning service which was somehow my favourite spot. I think I liked the lady at the counter. She was very friendly. She always praised me that I’m such a good girl to help my grandma and my mom. I liked to see the massive number of clothes hanging behind her which looked cool to me at the age of 5.

There were some flyers pinned on the community board at the landing space between the ground floor and the second floor: Some classified ads, posters for community events and local campaigns. I still remember the music I heard in that store. It was for an eco-friendly campaign back in 1980s. I can still sing to that song today.

It was a very, very common supermarket. There was nothing unique. Nothing fancy. It was just an ordinary store in an ordinary town. But it provided everything my family and my neighbourhood needed to live. It was like a cosmic space for the life of a 5-year-old.

That store is not there anymore. It has moved to a different location and reopened as a brand new supermarket with a proper floor size for its name. I still go to the new one and I like it. But I sometimes remember that small “supermarket” with nostalgia.