M for Meal

I look at the food leftovers in front of me.

The barely cooked egg yolk still runs on the plate—the table must be slightly uneven—and then it touches the meat. It’s a rare steak, which was a mistake to order. The blood from the piece I just cut makes a small shallow pool against the white of the dish. Fascinated, I let my eyes follow the running yoke in its slow-motion trip to the red pool. They strangely touch in a swirling movement.

The smell of coffee, which I used to love, assaults my nostrils. I can’t take my eyes of the color palette on the dish, even if bizarrely tinged by the coffee smell. They swirl and swirl…

I am going to throw up. I should have gone with lobster for my last meal.

***

Spiraling

“When I think about warm earl green tea, I think of lemon.” I study the ripples of the dark translucent liquid inside my cup. 

My friend takes a sip of her beverage, blinks twice, then lays the mug on the coffee table. “Yeah?” 

“Lemon reminds me of cleaning products, though. Cleaning the house. I must clean the house. I will have to…sooner or later. Then,  I must grocery shop. While I am at it, I might as well pick winter clothes for the kids even though winter is three months away. If you don’t get stuff in the fall, come winter, there is nothing left. Three months away, and I have to worry about that. Three months until Christmas, which means… I must let my mother-in-law know now if we are going to her house for Christmas dinner – she’s been asking about it for a month already. She has to plan, she says—”

“That’s crazy spiraling." She blinks twice again and looks at her cup, maybe wondering...

“I know. That’s why I prefer coffee.”

***

Delish

“This is delish."  Standing in front of a counter of doughnuts, mama claps her hand once and brings it close to her chest with a smile. "Delish, honey. It's how we say it these days." 

I take a deep breath -- pick one already! I think -- and let it go slowly as not to sound impatient. Mama smiles at me then back at the doughnuts. Here we go...

“Poppyseed. Canadian pride. Oh, this looks delicious! Maple. Just maple? It is usually maple and something else... Hmm. Chocolate. Chocolate with peanuts. Remind me, honey, you’re not allergic, are you? Ooh, Death by Chocolate. I think this is the one. Cinnamon Morning. Ha, The names they come up with… Can you believe it? So creative. Vanilla. Vanilla bean. There is a lot of vanilla. Plain. Lemon. Lime. Lime? Rasberry dreams. Mixed berries. Coffee. Pineapple. Wow, pineapple. So exotic. Nuts for you. Chocolate…”

***

Curiosity Killed the Cat

It was one of those things. Paul knew he wasn’t good at following rules. And he was a curious guy. So don’t you dare tell him what not to do.

And they knew he was not good at following rules. They knew he was a curious guy. They knew he didn’t like to be told what not to do.

It’s like putting a birthday cake in front of a child before singing happy birthday, then make them wait and expect the child not to stick their fingers in it. Why would you be that cruel?

So when, at the office, they put a Do Not Enter on a door, an ordinary door, to what used to be an ordinary room…oh, boy…that sign called his name. It whispered mysteriously in his ear. Why would this room on his floor suddenly be a do-not-enter material? It’s not like they were the police, or the FBI or the NSA… They were just a common, run-of-the-mill insurance company. If they were to become any more common, they would have become an accounting firm.

He resisted that birthday cake, of course. Day after day, Paul went by the sign and resisted. Valiantly. He was, after all, slightly better than a child.

But on the tenth day, temptation won. And he opened the door.

Now, this?