She’s tasty, I thought. Not ‘sugar and spice, all things nice’ tasty, that’s boring, but sweet with a hint of… some hidden ingredient, something alluring. I smiled, and omg!! she mouthed a hi through the crowded room and smiled back.
She was being basted by a beanpole, or rather a long stick of limp celery. His half-baked dog’s-dinner face, soured with his bitter words, reddened her cool, milky cheeks. She looked about to curdle, so I approached her and said something cheesy.
I took her hand and led her out of the kitchen while Celeryboy stewed behind us
Neville Hunt 6 months ago
Love it! This really throws up memories for me. ‘Basted by a beanpole’... that’s choice Drew. I used to be in awe of beanpoles, being well under 6 foot, but us more, let’s say, compact guys so often got the girls. Limp celery, just how you don’t want it. Enjoyed the drabble though!😊
Drew Martyn 6 months ago
Thanks very much :)