We meet at a place called the Fox and Anchor in Barbican. It’s not far from Jenna’s (and formerly my) gym, and she comes with her bag and trainers. She is sitting in front of a morose glass of red wine, and that’s kind of sweet from her.
Category: Word of the day
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“You should plant those little pots of basil and parsley they sell in supermarkets. You know, stuff that has grown already.” I suggest, touching the fabric of a pair of trousers I haven’t worn in a while.
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“You want to come?” It’s the sudden question Lennard posits me while chopping some leek.
“I… where?” I take time, even if I’ve understood what he means.
“To the new year’s party. Unless you have other plans” Zeke intromits. Bastard.
“I think…”
Lennard is looking at me. He knows I don’t have other plans.
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She scoured her whole denim dress, to understand where the unbearable itching was coming from.
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Theresa thought she had no time for that, so she just smiled.
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I was alone; yet safe.
That’s what I thought until the noise of something moving in the bushes reached my ears.
Someone, as I detected cadenced footsteps.(Excerpt from a soon to be published short story)
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He shared a morsel of his pastrami sandwich with the stray cat via his chalk-powdered hands.
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She loved she knew what anthropomorphic means.
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She opened her mouth but then decided to say, “It’s okay for me”.
Claudia Delicato 