Wednesday, May 01, 2013

tapas

the end meal. dealt by a tired waitress in black. to a couple just beginning. over muscles sautéed in white wine and butter. crostini with roasted red pepper and young anchovies. sangria with peaches and raspberries. questions about professions over courses of small plates. an awkward smile. finished with a glimmer of splendor. with admiration for an older man. a younger woman. a Tuesday night at a tapas bar. olive pits collecting on a tiny side plate. questions piling up. does he have any tattoos?  does she drink café or tea? when will i find out? should i just ask?
 
 

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