By Kirsty Epps
From the moment I saw him I knew what had gone before me no longer mattered. He had a weathered face, not attractive in the conventional sense. One that showed depth and wisdom.
This man had lived. Never to excess but coasting along the fence of the forbidden.
His voice was gravelly: a raspiness that sent shivers down my spine. He spoke, held my gaze. I wouldn’t look away first. I wouldn’t break this intensity. He was breathing new life into me.
He smiled.
I smiled back, and nodded. “Yes, I did want vinegar, and could I have them to go?”
Cute story! I love how lost we are in the narrator’s thoughts until the dialogue reveals the real situation. I wonder if this person will be getting more food at this place. 🙂
That last line really blew my mind. What are we talking about here–collard greens, Mountain Oysters, fried fish–or what???
I pictured fries at the end, and then laughed and laughed! Thank you for that!
I chuckled at the end. Didn’t see it coming, but it was totally earned. I like that line, “coasting along the fence of the forbidden. Thanks for your story!
Fish & chips? Have met men like this before, and thought similar thoughts to this before! Great stuff!