
Elixirs on shelves
make me sociable — they say
None, as ground coffee.
“Don’t be silly!” he lashed at Mary—in their sixth argument in two months.
Dave had just washed down a triple cheese burger with a large Coke. Mary, however, had imagined wine and scampi for their anniversary dinner. But when he showed up carrying a takeout meal, she couldn’t help but cry. “You’re a selfish jerk, Dave!” She had yelled.
They fumed in silence for half hour. Before he left, “We’ll go out tomorrow,” Dave promised stroking her hair.
Exhausted, Mary retired. She turned to her bed and noticed purple roses with a note, “Scampi is fine, but you’re finer.”
She lay on my table, her glowing skin provoking my every sense. I had never seen something so plump and lush, waiting and wanting to be devoured. For a moment, I considered dumping my New Year’s resolution. Only a fool would give it all up. Because one look at those soft swerves began melting my resolve.
Her scent threatened to asphyxiate me as I approached the table. My pendulum of a mind rocked between what it wanted to do and what it should do.
The next thing I knew, I was tearing the chicken, the grease dripping down my elbow.