by Claire King
Poised precisely at her table for one, she is immaculately groomed, her sunglasses by Chanel.
The waiter brings six oysters on a bed of crushed ice, placing them before her with an unwelcome flourish.
Minutes pass. Finally she lifts one shell, sips a little, then swallows the creature whole. As its saltiness slides down her throat she inhales its sulphur breeze. Like the last time her bare toes touched down on sand. When coastal gales blew hair across her smile and the horizon was wide.
The waiter brings toasted focaccia, piled with sautéed chanterelles.
She leans into the rising steam, turns the plate slowly - once, twice - then spears the mushrooms on silver tines and touches them to barely-parted lips. It is in her mouth again, the peaty earth where she buried her face the last time she was by his side. When they lifted her away screaming so the void could be filled before dark.
The waiter brings chocolate tart, glossy, almost black, perfectly central on oversized porcelain.
Someone once told her chocolate is addictive. That the physical pleasure from its chemical rush is like falling in love, like orgasm, like bliss. She pushes the spoon into her mouth and waits to feel anything again.
17
favs |
2115 views
26 comments |
207 words
All rights reserved. |
Written for 52/250 challenge week 19 : The Last Time
Love the way you've made the prose as pristine as she is, then puncture it with 'It is in her mouth again, the peaty earth where she buried her face the last time she was by his side'. Punched me *right there*. Brilliant.
Well done, Claire. I like the sensuality of the meal and feel guilty for its effect on the reader while the poor protagonist only hopes for the same.
I like this a lot – the painfully languid pace of the rememberances and the unrequited sensuality of the food. What a lovely counterpoint.
Claire. There is nothing I can say about this. I can only love it.
Good take on the challenge. I didn't know oysters could be so sexy.
Such a good piece, Claire. Great sense of the image: "She leans into the rising steam, turns the plate slowly - once, twice - then spears the mushrooms on silver tines and touches them to barely-parted lips. It is in her mouth again, the peaty earth where she buried her face the last time she was by his side."
Nice.
Excellent work, Claire. The foods, the flavors, everything just comes alive here.
I can only say: DAMN! What great description. Love this...pure poetry.
Thank you, lovely people for your kind comments and all the faves! This woman has been on my mind for a while, she was going to be a longer piece but the Linda's 52/250 theme fit so well with what was on her mind.
@Matthew - I'm just learning to find oysters sexy. I think they're terribly grown up things.
This is beautiful, Claire. Your words push me into the darkness and emptiness with her.
Absolutely love this! The coldness of the character balances so beautifully with the sensuality of the food. And the writing is pitch-perfect. *
Superb. It doesn't get any better than this. Literally a breathtaking read.
Elegant.
Fabulous, Claire. Just.So.Perfect. Printing out to savor again, like oysters and mushrooms and chocolate. Peace *
The torpor of an epicurean eater, in contrast with the enlivening titillations of iced oysters, sautéed chanterelles, and chocolate tart, makes for delicious prose. Fave.
Hi Claire,
This was a perfect little snap shot. I saw this woman so well. Great imagery. I tasted everything with her.
Enjoyed this and her loneliness.
H
Thank you, Frank for such an eloquent comment and the fave!
Really scrumptious writing (no pun), what you did with the food grabbed me hard, and then it got very earthy and got me to wondering if she had a crack up, and then this powerful ending that gave me chills
*
Thanks so much, Harley and Susan for your very kind comments.
This is fantastic, well-written. The sensuousness of food is perfectly drawn, and the narrator's loss is painted vividly with negative space. And using food to "feel" is something I've actually been thinking a lot about myself as of late.
"She leans into the rising steam"
Beautifully observed.
Beautifully restrained.
This is a sad ending. The food is described well and interlaced with her emotions. Well Done, Claire.
Ah, the beauty of the food, the sensuality of it, the lush words on the page -- all of it is in such perfect contrast to the character portrayed, whom we only realize at that killer ending is waiting to feel it as we do. Amazing that the reader can experience all this more than she can: what a wonderfully executed idea.
And Matthew Hamilton: you don't know what you're missing!
Love this, Claire, all of it.
*
This is wonderful. May your horizons be wide.
This is so good in its visceral richness. It is a gem.
I feel a novel here....lovely!