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Heat and Hunger

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Heat and Hunger

By

K. Aten

 

February

 

            YOU WALK THROUGH the door at four in the morning in monochrome black boots and a one-piece jump suit.  You smile at me and I notice the tantalizing skin revealed by the open zipper.  I thought you might be cold, I knew you were beautiful. My mouth watered.  Now you are a woman I could fall in love with.  You order black coffee and blackberry pie and I chalk up to foul weather.  It puts me in a black mood too.  As a gift, I serve your coffee with a sweet smile instead of unasked-for sugar.  The pie is warm and lonely on the white plate and I feel like that pie.  I’m getting warmer by the minute and I know I want your mouth on me.  I laugh to myself as I walk away.

A short while later, the jingle of the door and a cold blast of air tell me my relief is here.  When I look up I give a startled yelp as my warm green eyes meet glacier blue.  I guess you want to pay your bill.  When our hands meet over the change, the heat I feel makes me gasp and shiver.  I understand now how you could walk out into the swirling snow without a coat.  You are more than hot.  The departing smile you sent my way leaves me more than hot too.  I go to the back and gather my things, leaving off the jacket.  I think I’ll walk home. 

 

April

 

MONTHS LATER I’M at my apartment pacing and sweating.  My t-shirt and shorts cling to my body and I shiver.  I feel like I have a fever or the flu and you’re my antibiotic.  But I never saw you again.  You never came back and now I feel as if I’m burning from within.  Months ago your touch ignited a hunger inside me.  I sigh and run my hand through short blonde hair that has become damp with sweat.  I’m hot, and for the first time in my life I’m lonely.  I’ve become the blackberry pie on the white plate.  Making a quick decision I put on my hiking boots and head for a café down the street.

It’s spring but not warm yet and I welcome the breeze.  I decide before I even arrive just to order an iced latte.  The heat I feel all the time has left me without an appetite.  When I walk through the door the crowd takes me by surprise.  I manage to find a small table at the edge of all the chaos.  The man next to me is reading a newspaper and I steal a glance at the date.  I blink my surprise realizing its Saturday and I’ve never been here before.  Out of the corner of my eye I see black slacks with an orange apron heading my way.  I look up ready to order, and it’s you.  My green eyes meet your blue ones and in an instant I melt.  Suddenly I’m starving.  In a loud whisper I ask for black coffee and blackberry pie, never having looked at the menu.  You nod, smile, and walk away.  After what feels like two lifetimes later, you return.  You’re carrying an iced latte and the pie has a scoop of melting ice cream on top.  The plate is warm black.  I raise my eyebrow and you shrug, giving me a sweet smile.  “You look hot” was the only answer I get.  I shiver again and return the smile, knowing you understand.  In this moment of clarity my world is focused on two things, your blue eyes and my hunger.