The children watched the muffins rise through the grease stained window of the stove. It was exciting for them to start their day with such a treat. Fighting for space in front of the tiny window, their voices carried throughout the house, and she wondered if it would wake him. She hoped so. She imagined him walking up behind her and planting little good morning kisses on her neck.
As usual, she had to wake him, and he feigned complaint, burying himself beneath the layers of bedding. When he finally gave in and let her pull the covers off him, he let her stare at him for a moment because he knew how she enjoyed his body. She wished he'd look at her the same way. She closed her eyes and envisioned his eyes enjoying her body as he traced his fingers along her silhouette.
Their fingers intertwined as they walked down the hallway together, dropping only when they came in sight of the children. The smell of cinnamon muffins drifted lightly through the kitchen. As she began getting plates and cups and utensils, she glimpsed at him gazing aimlessly into air, and wished he'd have presence of mind to ask if she needed any help. He didn't. He never did. She closed her eyes for a moment, exhaled a deep sigh, planted a smile across her face, and dutifully brought the plates of muffins to the table.
As they ate, she eyed him wistfully, the children bantered back and forth for his attention, and he seemed at once oblivious and captivated by the moment. He made faces to make her giggle, he played along well with the children, and every once in a while, he'd look at her in a way that made her melt every time. She reveled in these moments. She couldn't imagine them lasting a lifetime, but she could be happy for a few more months of these moments strung together.
Slowly she chewed her last bite of muffin, savoring the cinnamon flavor. The smell of the cinnamon was wonderful, she thought, and pondered on when the house would lose the warm mist of scent. She looked across the table at him and wondered when she would lose him. He always seemed to have one foot out the door. This wasn't a forever relationship, she knew, this was a relationship with an expiration date. She smiled sweetly across the table at him and waited patiently for their bitter demise.
As usual, she had to wake him, and he feigned complaint, burying himself beneath the layers of bedding. When he finally gave in and let her pull the covers off him, he let her stare at him for a moment because he knew how she enjoyed his body. She wished he'd look at her the same way. She closed her eyes and envisioned his eyes enjoying her body as he traced his fingers along her silhouette.
Their fingers intertwined as they walked down the hallway together, dropping only when they came in sight of the children. The smell of cinnamon muffins drifted lightly through the kitchen. As she began getting plates and cups and utensils, she glimpsed at him gazing aimlessly into air, and wished he'd have presence of mind to ask if she needed any help. He didn't. He never did. She closed her eyes for a moment, exhaled a deep sigh, planted a smile across her face, and dutifully brought the plates of muffins to the table.
As they ate, she eyed him wistfully, the children bantered back and forth for his attention, and he seemed at once oblivious and captivated by the moment. He made faces to make her giggle, he played along well with the children, and every once in a while, he'd look at her in a way that made her melt every time. She reveled in these moments. She couldn't imagine them lasting a lifetime, but she could be happy for a few more months of these moments strung together.
Slowly she chewed her last bite of muffin, savoring the cinnamon flavor. The smell of the cinnamon was wonderful, she thought, and pondered on when the house would lose the warm mist of scent. She looked across the table at him and wondered when she would lose him. He always seemed to have one foot out the door. This wasn't a forever relationship, she knew, this was a relationship with an expiration date. She smiled sweetly across the table at him and waited patiently for their bitter demise.
Vivid description of a sad situation- cinnamon has such an evocative scent not usually associated with such sadness.
ReplyDeleteGreat piece. Wonder if the scent of cinnamon will now evoke memories for her of less sweet times. Sad...
ReplyDeleteAh, those self fulfilling prophecies. Fear of the worst encourages its growth.
ReplyDeleteIn context, I'm rolling my eyes. In storytelling, one of your better pieces.
ReplyDeleteEmail me for more notes.
Hmmm, it's a good description of the typical ignorant, self centered male.
ReplyDeletetypical ignorant, self centered...wow.
ReplyDeleteand each time she tastes the sweetness, or catches a whif of the aroma her stomach will turn...
Why didn't you double-tap this with Theme Thursday?
ReplyDeleteNever mind... did it for you.
ReplyDeletesounds like the scent of cinnamon may last longer?
ReplyDeleteMuffins!
ReplyDeleteAh nothing like obsession to cloud the mists.
ReplyDelete