No one knew who put the ikan bilis bun on her table. She picked it up and scrutinised it: it was from the neighbouring country half an hour away. She knew a few colleagues from that country, but none who might have bought her that bun or who knew her predilection for anchovies. 

She took a bite and closed her eyes, savouring the tang of the spices. She ate, with bigger bites each time until she had devoured every bit and transported herself away from the tedium of canteen consistency.

Two days later, another bun appeared on her table. 

The week after, the same bun appeared. 

Delighted, she was opening the plastic wrapping when she heard a voice three cubicles away: “Do you like the buns I got for you?”

Spinning around, she heard the reply, “What buns?”

“Those ikan bilis buns?” 

“What ikan bilis buns?”