The Meal Of Life

I’m afraid to say that work, life and chaos got in the way and I have done very little writing for the last few weeks. I’m gutted to have missed a few weeks of Friday Fictioneers but thankfully things are slowing down and I can once more feed my craving.

dining-roomPhoto Copyright : Jan Wayne Fields

The first course was fresh, lighthearted and fun. Little hints of sunshine on a bruschetta of optimism. We laughed and we talked, we loved and we hoped. We drank to be drunk and our glasses stayed full.

The second course was richer, a little tough yet still tender; layers of compromise on a bed of responsibility. The wine was full bodied but the bottle never emptied. We sat and we thought and talked about nothing.

The last course, the cream, the sweet reminiscences. The taste of past memories on the tip of my tongue. Now I eat and I drink and remember you’re gone.

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16 thoughts on “The Meal Of Life

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