The Couple & The Cake
The couple sat around a cake, as if warming against the imaginary fire of romance it emitted. She had a dimple on her left cheek. He had a weak heart for that dimple. They used one spoon to excavate the sides of the cake. She wasn’t a sweet tooth but he had insisted that the cake was everything. That’s actually the word he used, “everything.” He liked using that word, she noticed; that song was everything, the road-trip was everything….
For a first date it was a bit unhygienic to share a spoon. I mean, she didn’t know him. Yes they had talked a lot about everything in the weeks leading to the date but they hadn’t discussed oral hygiene. Also, Covid. But you know how love is; love is greater than a virus, greater than a plague.
His knees were long and they constantly bumped into hers under the table. It seemed like a very romantic gesture. It’s one of the things she would remember that night in bed; how long and bony his knees were and how when they rapped against hers under the table. It felt like there was a cow under the table honing her knees. He wasn’t funny like she liked her men, just attentive and warm. She chewed slowly, the cake and his attempts at jokes, rewarding him with an occasional tinkle of her laughter.
At some point he scooped a piece of cake and fed her. She blushed and looked away. “Do you always feed people like this?” She asked coquettishly. “Yes,” he said. “I work for an NGO that feeds homeless people.” He wasn’t joking which was funny. She found him funny without meaning to. In the end they couldn’t finish the cake, so he asked for it to be packed for her. Oh this sweet man with a sweet tooth.
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