It seemed the most fun in the fairground was in the small kitchen where Aaron and I worked over the summer; preparing batter and churning out waffle after waffle, talking about our dreams, confiding our fears and laughing the laugh of two people on the same wavelength, a side glance enough to set off a shared, unspoken joke and a fit of giggles. When it quietened down, he’d create masterpieces – a kitten with waffle whiskers, a hot air balloon, and bravely, a telephone- I’d noticed the nerves when he asked for my number as I bit its curly waffle cord, the memory a welcome distraction, my mind wandering, pondering how dull that telephone would look if he were to make it now- imagining straight crisp edges, chocolate sauce dabbed in dimples for battery life, and maple syrup drips of reception silenced my inner critic’s commentary on broadened hips, silver streaks, and traces of life’s lines on my face as I approached the man sitting across the room. Continue reading →
It was a lovely quirk of fate that living at number 24, my mailbox held the promise of his kisses, scrawled on a receipt, or a postcard he’d bought on a whim in his travels, or a torn out page from a book of poetry, with the familiar ‘xxx’ in his swirling longhand.
We had a game where he’d send me a message with a separate envelope for words beginning with the same letter of the alphabet, like a jumbled whole word version of alphabet soup, and I’d have to make out his intended sentences and sentiments.
The fun was in the stealth operation of checking the mail boxes in my street, from houses 1 through to 23, then 25 and 26, never knowing which letters would feature, hoping the occupants didn’t catch me in the act, or worse still, check their mail before me.
Prompt courtesy of Sonya’s Three Line Tales, Week 16, although for me this is week 3 of participating. If you’d like to give it a go, follow the link for details. Okay, so perhaps very long sentences to fit into 3 lines. I hope you took a breath if reading aloud.