She cut a slice of a thick cake many years ago for Christmas with a smile that looked like a shining moon in an otherwise dark and an unstarry night.
It was the manna for my starving stomach. There was a bitter after taste to the cake which I was curious about. She told me it was the bite of the rum that was now absorbed by the plums. I smiled and gobbled it all up. I mean, what else could a hungry man want?
She cut me another slice of the same heavenly cake. And I started chomping on this one too with the perhaps the same vigor. She was preening with happiness. Of seeing me after many moons. Maybe many fortnights. She was in love and how could you measure time?
Me? As I was chomping on the cake, and my hunger started to abate, I suddenly remembered the rich ganache filled cake that I missed. Suddenly the plum cake felt bitter in my mouth. The need to spit it out was killing me.
The need to get out of the place was driving me nuts. And the shirt- it felt far too tight.
My hunger or the lack of it didnt matter. My anger did. And it didnt taste like anything anymore.
It was the manna for my starving stomach. There was a bitter after taste to the cake which I was curious about. She told me it was the bite of the rum that was now absorbed by the plums. I smiled and gobbled it all up. I mean, what else could a hungry man want?
She cut me another slice of the same heavenly cake. And I started chomping on this one too with the perhaps the same vigor. She was preening with happiness. Of seeing me after many moons. Maybe many fortnights. She was in love and how could you measure time?
Me? As I was chomping on the cake, and my hunger started to abate, I suddenly remembered the rich ganache filled cake that I missed. Suddenly the plum cake felt bitter in my mouth. The need to spit it out was killing me.
The need to get out of the place was driving me nuts. And the shirt- it felt far too tight.
My hunger or the lack of it didnt matter. My anger did. And it didnt taste like anything anymore.
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