He watched her in the kitchen. She moved with purpose, gathered ingredients and appeared to be doing fifteen things at once. He witnessed this ritual of an elaborate brunch after a leisurely morning in bed on each of their 23 anniversaries. Rather than guess which steps belonged to which process, his mind wandered.
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When we fall in love, it is easy to recite all the things we want. We play our dreams in fast forward inserting Mate into the opposite starring role. Can you hear me asking yet? What do you think happens?
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There is a storm on the horizon. Under his feet, he feels the thunder after lightning rips the darkness asunder. The electric tingling is not the storm chaser desire. He knows she is out there with only a slicker and a camera between her and Mother Nature’s fury.
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If you have not been over to Edward Hotspur’s place to see what the whys and wherefores are for Romantic Monday, you are encouraged (Do you see me with the raised eyebrow, crossed arms and tapping foot?) to do so when the house lights come back up. With no more palaver, Romantic Monday.
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