by Kelly Aten
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Copyright © by Kelly Aten May 2009
You walk in the door at four in the morning in monochrome black boots and a one-piece jump suit. You smile at
me and I notice the tantalizing skin revealed by the open zipper. I thought you might be cold, I knew you were
beautiful; my mouth watered. Now you are a woman I could fall in love with. You order black coffee and blackberry
pie and I chalk up to foul weather. It puts me in a black mood too. As a gift, I serve your coffee with a sweet
smile instead of sugar. The pie was warm and lonely on the white plate, I feel like that pie. I’m getting warmer
by the minute and I know I want your mouth on me. I laugh to myself as I walk away.
A short while later, the jingle of the door and a cold blast of air tell me my relief is here. When I look up I
give a startled yelp. My warm green eyes meet glacier blue. I guess you want to pay your bill. When our hands meet
over the change, the heat I feel makes me gasp and shiver. I understand now how you could walk out into the swirling
snow without a coat. You are more than hot. The departing smile you sent my way leaves me more than hot too. I
go to the back and gather my things, leaving off the jacket. I think I’ll walk home.
Months later I’m at my apartment, pacing and sweating. My t-shirt and shorts cling to my body and I shiver.
I feel like I have a fever, or the flu, and you’re my antibiotic. But I never saw you again. You never came back
and now I feel as if I’m burning from within. Months ago, your touch ignited a hunger inside me. I sigh and run
my hand through short blonde hair that has become damp with sweat. I’m hot, and for the first time in my life,
I’m lonely. I’ve become the blackberry pie on the white plate. Making a quick decision, I put on my hiking boots
and head for a café down the street.
It’s spring but not warm yet and I welcome the breeze. I decide, before I even arrive just to order an iced latte.
The heat I feel all the time has left me without an appetite. When I walk through the door, the crowd takes me
by surprise. I manage to find a small table at the edge of all the chaos. The man next to me is reading a newspaper
and I steal a glance at the date. I blink my surprise realizing it’s Saturday and I’ve never been here before.
Out of the corner of my eye I see black slacks with an orange apron heading my way. I look up, ready to order,
and it’s you. My green eyes meet your blue ones and in an instant, I melt. Suddenly I’m starving. In a loud whisper
I ask for black coffee and blackberry pie, never having looked at the menu. You nod, smile, and walk away. In what
feels like two lifetimes later, you return. You’re carrying an iced latte and the pie has a scoop of melting ice
cream on top. The plate is warm black. I raise my eyebrow and you shrug, giving me a sweet smile. “You look hot”
was the only answer I get. I shiver and return the smile, knowing you understand. In this moment of clarity my
world is focused on two things, your blue eyes and my hunger.
If you have enjoyed Kelly Aten's "Heat And Hunger", then please be certain to Contact The Writer and thank her for posting this Story.
Click here for a list of all of Kelly Aten's Stories and Poetry at Sapphic Voices Authoresses.
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