I suck at snippets. Me and five hundred words? That's like my hello. I'm trying though honestly I am. :-P
So I'm housing my real snippets and the longer ones (meaning the 2x snippets) here. Oh and if you're reading this and have NO idea what I'm talking about. Go to Blah Blah Woof Woof and I mean 'run, don't walk' kind of go.
Snippet 8-25-07 'Food' Response
He normally liked the quiet, far more at ease with it than large noisy dinner parties, where he was expected to be someone he hadn't been since 12:05pm, June first so many years ago.
Now though, at the well-set dinner table, absentmindedly forking his salad into his mouth, barely tasting the vinaigrette he had carefully been testing during its preparation to make sure it had just the right amount of acidity and seasoning…
And now it was going to waste on someone who wasn't even tasting it, he wished Peter would give up his stance and join him, wished Lauren and Sophie weren't upstairs having dinner with Mrs. Moreno.
He wondered if his neighbor had any idea just how many times she had nearly been greeted with a bullet.
But it was good for Lauren to relax a bit tonight, before they…
Mrs. Moreno would amuse Sophie in ways he and Lauren wouldn't have been able to manage and even if she mentioned they were in his apartment, no one ever paid much attention to her. It would be good for them all to have this night.
He wished he hadn't scared her off.
He had carefully worked out his script as he methodically prepared dinner, 'I'm not a half-bad cook.' He had become so over time, he had slowly honed the skill with countless meals after long and stressful days, where he just needed something, anything to push everything else away for an hour. He could focus on the meal, its deliberate preparation and nothing else and eventually his problems would just settle into a blur.
Tonight though he had thought of her with every chop, every stir, every pinch.
Not that smirk, or that catsuit…No, the mission. He had thought about her abilities, not what she must have gone through in her life. No, about saving Lauren and Sophie, of making sure Sonrisa wouldn't hurt anyone else; wouldn't take anymore fathers away from their children.
But when she looked at him it had all become a struggle. Words normally came easy to him.
He was systematically going over their conversation, trying to figure out where exactly he'd lost her as he loaded his plate with dinner, though truthfully, he couldn't remember the last time he'd been hungry.
He'd come on too strong, he decided as a bite of chicken was thoroughly being chewed, his fork still in the air as he'd forgotten to lower it.
He hadn't had the time for a 'slow and easy' approach though. Tomorrow, he'd…
The fork froze mid-plunge to his plate and he swallowed the not completely chewed bite of chicken that scraped along his suddenly dry throat.
He shook his head, there would be a tomorrow.
There had to be a tomorrow.
He looked down at his near empty plate that he hadn't remembered eating. Two bites of chicken. His final taste of…
No, he quickly corrected himself.
There would be other dinners, other meals, maybe even a few with her.
This wasn't his last dinner.
He speared a bite of chicken and tried to savor it, but instead found it tasted like dust. It was suddenly hard and chewy, flavorless.
It couldn't possibly be his last meal.
His heart started to pound and he had the sudden urge to push away from the table, but instead he kept his demeanor calm and systematically finished off the meal, never tasting another bite.
He cleared the table, carefully storing the leftovers in the fridge for an easy meal later on because there would be a later on. He resisted the urge to leave his dishes dirty in the sink because he was sure they were the last thing he'd want to return to the apartment to.
His blood was still pumping as everything was left to dry and he wondered about trying to talk Peter into going for a run with him, he hadn't been outside doing something for himself in days.
It was late though and he should save his energy…
Plenty of times to run in the future and hopefully none tomorrow…
He thought about her as he dried his hands and there was a sudden tightening of his chest and he knew for sure there would be a tomorrow.
There had to be a tomorrow.