The chef hovered over the scarred counter, a petrified cucumber peering up at him. He was a frenzy of precision, hand and blade a haze of function as he committed agile homicide.
Brandy floated into the matchbox kitchen, her tangerine uniform snug, pressed and desirous. She winked at him. Jason purred.
She reached for a lone carrot and placed it before him, her tongue slithering across her lips. “Take it apart for me?”
The hum of infatuation sliced through their shared emptiness as he diced the defenseless vegetable, her eyes carving into him like a pair of amber hatchets.
Namitha Varma-Rajesh (@namithavr) says
Very well written. Excellent metaphors.
Wisp Of Smoke says