Bon Appetit

Alshaad Kara posted under Flash Fiction Guest Posts QuinTale-59 on 2024-01-25



You know you shall never get the same taste of food with the same amount of care and love anywhere around the world. Food is life and is a need. That's a fact. How I regret not having another meal of yours...With the ones gone, are their magic hands that once prepared us delicious treats. What is left are the tears and the empty plates. Salvage the pieces that remain, ingredients keep changing and it is never-ending. Each has their own niche and likings. Foods are necessities for most and models for the elite. Eating is a mood. Humour or sadness associated with the dish is what makes its specialty. Cheers! This is a toast to celebrate or an ode. Wipe the stains of the spices on your hands. If it goes away, it will be forgotten. If not, you need to replace it with another masala which shall dove you in the temptations to eat again. Relishing oneself becomes a dream that needs to be fulfilled again. The efforts of this world are commendable, I must say. We have to eat to stay alive but the love poured into making it, faded like a gust. Digest if you have an empty stomach! Let the ink of destiny spill the tea in the body. It shall fluctuate to respond to the watery waves in my soul. At night, the glasses are spiked to another darkness. The silence and the discomfort boiling down are enough to leave. The closure of pain breaks down any envy to feast. Losing oneself in that dark underworld is a fight to submerge sane though one knows it hits your taste. These choices made take a dark undertone merging with the napkins. No one tells you what is next, what is about to be revealed, whether you will like it or not remains subjective to the tongue. Absorb the intensity of this syndrome. Dramas are served like appetizers, conflicting eyes are the main course, heartbreak can be the sides and the ones finishing their food are the bill mongers. You are served a fantastic menu, what shall be your order? The cherries and the strawberries are as sweet as musk.  What stays on the table disappears and what goes under the table are the feet enlacing each other narrating a tale of refreshment. By the time, one ends their day, their hunger is still famished just like a heart that needs love. Both unsatisfied, the cravings for tomorrow makes it another war with oneself. Food and love correlate as needs for humans. Remove one and nothing can satisfy the hungriness. Mix both and it shall be a gamble. The audacity is to keep the balance between relish and desire. Can you?