A Loving Meal: A 100-Word Story
“I cooked you something.”
He stares at me as though I’ve just said I ran over the neighbor’s cat.
“Why do you look so nervous? Have a seat. Relax.”
Doesn’t he know I cook to show my love?
I sit him down in a chair in front of a plate of sweet and spicy chicken.
Although, I also cook to show my anger—a trait I inherited from my mother, whose final meal for my father sent him to the morgue with shards of glass lodged in his throat.
But I’m not that angry, my love. Not today.
© 2023 Nortina Simmons