Tagged: Food (993)

The silence circles them until they are vanished in its whirlpool. She can’t bring herself to look at him now. Not since he ate the last banana

He bit into the sub and she said, That’s going to be like wearing a tattoo, and he could smell what she meant. And then she got very silent.

He was from a small town. And Mongolian Hot Pot sounded intriguing. Until after the meal. And then, he understood what hot pot really meant.

She was the prettiest woman he’d been with. And the date was going well. Until she put ketchup on her hot dog. Then he couldn’t look at her.

The room smelled of lust, or at least, a deep desire for something new. Tongues were wet. Glistening. Exposed. And then the chef appeared.

The day grew dark. The clouds had covered the sun and he knew the picnic would soon come to its end. But no one had yet to sample his cakes.