A Taste

lemon_juice__lemon_lip_art__by_chuchy5-deviantart

(Credit: Chuchy5 on DeviantArt)

Cinnamon.

I take a deep breath.

Cinnamon and paprika.

The chicken has probably been marinating since yesterday. Now the hissing fat is dripping into a tray, while the chef yells to her minions about the sauce. I imagine what it must be like to live upstairs in this mansion, not only having a feast for dinner every day, but having people prepare that feast for you. Eating a whole chicken, the cinnamon tickling my nose, the gravy running down my chin. I lick my lips.

‘Hey!’

The chef’s call pulls me back. I must have leant against the door while I was imagining, because it is wide open now. The chef marches over to me.

‘Oh, it’s you.’ With one hand, she adjusts her apron; the other clutches half a lemon. ‘Look, I don’t have anything for you today.’

I stare at the lemon.

‘I’m sorry,’ she says, ‘but you have to leave.’

I point at the lemon.

‘What?’ she says, ‘I’ve already pressed it.’

I point at the lemon again.

‘Alright,’ she hands me the lemon, ‘but you still have to go.’

I cradle the lemon in my hands as I turn my back. A firm push gets me started and I stagger across the courtyard. Beyond the gate, I sit down by the side of the road with my prize. I hold the lemon above my mouth and press it for all I am worth. The tart drops sting my lips. It is heaven.

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Tasting Regret

Private charter plane in hanger

Private charter plane in hanger (Photo credit: Shine 2010 – 2010 World Cup good news)

Sweet, soft and melting on his tongue with just a hint of rum and raisins. He could already feel his stomach rebelling. Why he had eaten the chocolate when he knew how his body reacted, he could not say. The taste did not even please him.

However, the regret he felt from eating chocolate was mild compared to the regret he felt every time he looked at Abigail. Her taste did not please him either, not anymore, and a both sour and bitter taste rose into his mouth when he looked at the plane he had recently bought for her.

The only thing that could make his regret worse now would be if his wife ever found out.

Do You Remember?

Bananas !!

Bananas (Photo credit: Max xx)

Do you remember the flowers?

Oh, they were wonderful weren’t they?

Their bright contrast of blue and yellow and red and green. I especially liked the green flowers. It was so hard to see where the stem ended and the flower began.

Their scent rolled out over the field and it was so thick. I could taste the sweet artificial banana flavour on the air. Do you think they were made to smell like that or did someone spray the banana stuff over them later?

You did not care much for it as I recall. You just barfed and wanted new shoes.

But you always hated bananas.

Why do you always ruin my memories?

I was having a great time remembering until you came along.

Just go away.

Leave me with my flowers.

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