Fruit
I sat here at the table in the kitchen this morning with a plate of fruit and a
small slave's cup of blackwine, my journal open to a blank page.
For a time I thought I had nothing to write. I am eating a bit more. It seems
that as my body awakens to other appetites, the desire for food has returned as
well.
I sat, quietly alone, enjoying the shaft of early morning sunlight that softly
lit the room and the freshly made cinnamon scented blackwine.
I bit into a ramberry ... the taste sweet and succulent. A fleshy slice of larma
was next ... juice coating my lower lip. I ate with enthusiasm and then suddenly
began to laugh.
I am like a piece of fruit almost ready for plucking ...