Milk and Honey

by Rob

Two pairs of feet, walking on the cold tiles. They turn to the window. The kitchen gets a slight breeze of fresh air. A sunshine caress a cheek and on the other two lips are placed ...

Two legs and two hands go to the refrigerator to get a box of milk. Then they turn to the top cabinet and rise to the tip of their toes. Nothing..

Two hands grab a thin waist and two take the jar of honey.

On two slices of soft bread the honey spreads, and in two cups the milk flows.

Two mouths bite out of the bread, drink milk and kiss.

...

A pair of feet, walking on cold tiles. They turn to the window. There is a draft in the kitchen. Outside,it is raining and a drop falls on a pale cheek and on the other drop another appears. It’s raining inside ...

Two legs and two hands go to the refrigerator to get a box milk. Then they turn to cabinet and rise to the tip of their toes. Nothing ...

A dry slice of bread remains abandoned on a plate and in a glass the milk flows.

A mouth takes a sip of milk, but it has no taste and the candied honey jar lies alone in the cabinet.

Comments & reviews · 3
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Hey there Rob, long time no see!

First off, your signature is amazing: just saying :D

Second of all, this piece is simply...beautiful. It amuses me that Owl, who commented above me, pictured this piece with two little boys.

I pictured lovers, together, intimate in the kitchen as they prepared breakfast, then suddenly, one of them is gone, and there are only two feet left.

It was a beautiful, sweet, haunting piece and I find nothing negative to say about it. Let me know if you post more, ok?

Tanya

User avatar
SlyNightOwl
Review

I really like how you don't give specific names. By doing that, it adds to the imagery. I pictured two boys waking up in the morning, finding out their parents went to church that Sunday and had let them sleep in, but there was no breakfast on the table. So what did they have? Milk and honey(:



I think the best thing about making it into the quote generator is when nobody tells you, so one day you're just scrolling and voila, some phenomenally inane thing that crawled out of your dying synapses and immediately regretted being born the second it made contact with the air has been archived for all time. Or worse, a remark of only average inanity. Never tell me when you've put me in the generator. Pride-tinged regret just doesn't taste the same without the spice of surprise.
— SirenCymbaline