Ashes (IP)

Garlic, onions, peppers, mushrooms, rock salt, oregano, Rioja and something for dessert.

She had more shopping list than time.

At the entrance now. Was that everything?
Trolley bashing never got any easier.
She tried to pity the others. Singletons out at this time with their paltry empty baskets. Her with hers - full as a cat.

Peppers, mushrooms, rock salt, oregano, Rioja and something for dessert.

Does he like Rioja? Oh God she hoped she's remembered right.
Nervous hands will soon have smashed two glasses,
taken a nick from a finger and let the trickle loose.

Oregano, rock salt, Rioja maybe and something for dessert.

I'll get a mixture she decided, pleased with herself then proud of her choices. He knows his wines, she'll let him choose from her impressive range.

She pays. She goes.
She forgot something for dessert.

Back out. Heavy and dark or light and fresh? She wanted him energetic but couldn't risk skimping - not on the food at least. Dark chocolate slid into the basket.

Home. She crisply sliced off the ends first.
Chunks and hunks of what's to come.
Detritus to forget happily tossed.

Garlic and onions in first. Then peppers.

The soft crackle of the pan lifted
bubbles of anticipation.
Little wafts of smoke played in the kitchen - flirting between the candles.

Mushrooms in and season.

Oh God he's early! Which one to open? It needs to breathe! It's simmering as he stands there wreathed in the light of the landing.

He speaks slowly so she can understand.

Flecks of sauce hurl from the pan.

She can only see his mouth form the awful words.

Sizzle and boil.

The door slips shut. His hanging head cut off in the light.

'I'm sorry' still ripples with a whisper on the wood and weave.

Garlic, onions, peppers, mushrooms, rock salt, oregano, Rioja and something for dessert.

Too fast.
Too hot.
Just ashes.