The day has already started before the tables fill.
There is steam before there are people.
Not much. Just enough to drift above a bowl being carried through an aisle. It rises briefly, disappears into the larger air of the hall, and leaves nothing behind.
The sound arrives in fragments. Metal against metal. A chair pulled back. Someone calling an order from further away. The space remains open enough for these sounds to travel without gathering into noise.
Only later does the name settle into view—Tekka Centre. Not all at once, but through repetition. The same aisles. The same tables. The same paths taken between stall and seat.
The movement behind the counter continues regardless of who is waiting.
At 545 Whampoa Prawn Noodles, bowls appear one after another. They move across the counter and into the crowd, becoming harder to distinguish from everything around them. A bowl leaves. Another replaces it. Steam rises again.
The centre seems built around these small exchanges.
Someone pauses beside a table before deciding where to sit. Another leaves a tray behind and disappears into the aisle. Nothing stays still for very long, but nothing appears rushed either.
In Circulation and Pause, the movement of Tekka Centre feels visible. Here, it feels quieter, almost hidden beneath the repetition.
Occupied, emptied, occupied again.
The tables change more slowly than the aisles.
Cups remain after conversations end. Bowls sit untouched for a moment before being cleared. A seat opens, then closes again. Small absences appear and disappear throughout the afternoon.
Present, then gradually altered by use.
The prawn mee becomes part of this rhythm without asking for attention. Steam fades. The broth cools. The arrangement on the table changes shape.
Around it, Tekka Centre continues to repeat itself.
For orientation: https://share.google/B8lEqp6i0xkx8dTaW
