Meal for Another Day
We’d exchange texts with spirit. Though an unorthodox first date, and never one to be predictable, she’s meeting muah at the grocery store. This is an inside job…
As she arrives, I open her door. Greeting her with a hug under a blue sky. The afternoon is young. So many decisions to make. I’ve brought a short list to seek out. Making sure there’s a pen and utilizing my server’s book for legible writing.
Matching her pace as we stroll. Being quiet to listen to her observations. But I don’t need some of these items, neither does – she – right now. Simply, white lies, so that I can “pretend” they were on my list. Secretly logging her favorites. Studying the object of my affection.
Passing by the flowers, she tells me her favorites. We’ve got half a dozen items from my list, only half of tonight’s menu? Both of us still deciding what we’re really hungry for. Hell, I dismiss myself to the restroom between aisles. Not having to go, just doubling back to grab her favorite flowers. A quick checkout and hiding them in the car.
Back to our shopping trip. Still taking notes to surprise her with a future perfect meal…
Opening her door after checkout, we head to the house. She’s cutting everything for salad. I’ve prepped the meat. We decide to take it slow. After I present her a bottle of wine; pour a glass – we retire to the couch.
She sets her glass, and food down. Her feet aching from work and the grocery stroll. So, I toss of her shoes and rub them. She moans. Wanting to thank me … She crawls across me for a kiss. Gently she rests on my chest. Speaking softly. As she’s fading, I scratch her back.
Taking things slowly… She falls asleep on me.
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The Music:
