“One more slice my dear?”
My stomach grumbled, though it could’ve been just a warning sign for me to refuse. But my host, so generous in her portions, was legendary for her delicious creations. My tongue was well and truly tied.
“I’ll cut you a teensy bit. You won’t even notice it on the plate ”
Oh. The second part of that sentence wasn’t completely true. You’d certainly know it was there. In fact, Tim Peake could’ve seen it from the International Space Station. With his eyes closed. In his cabin.
But I couldn’t refuse this slice of gorgeousness. Clouds of smooth, white, yet slightly crisp meringue beckoned me, with a soft, lilting voice. Luscious lemon oozed from beneath, without any sight of a soggy bottom.
My host winked her twinkling blue grey eyes and, leaning close , placed a gentle kiss upon my cheek. Her generous heart, filled with years of tears, fears, hopes, dreams were part and parcel of each delectable bite. She poured them, mixed them and served each portion with joy.
How could I refuse such a demonstration of pure happiness?