Greenish Is the Perfect Shade
Tabitha spent an hour failing to get the flawless blue glaze on his mousse. Birthdays, they come quicker every year.
She looked through his old self-published recipe books for assistance. His food was always sublimity. There’d be no way to pull off such artistry. Turning the page there was a picture of molasses cookies—she made them as a child. A note was written on the polaroid in olive ink: “The finest gift made by my dearest daughter.” Flat and misshapen they were.
Pleased he lovingly ate a mouthful of the greenish mousse and stated, “It’s perfect, simply picture-perfect, Tabby.”
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To Leave Comments - Please SignIn with GoogleHello, Melissa. Your story makes me starving. I suddenly felt hungry and just swallowed my saliva as I thought of your greenish mousse. Nicely done.
Thank you, Lotchie. I’m glad you enjoyed my story.
You’re welcome, Melissa.
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To Leave Comments - Please SignIn with GoogleOh, Melissa, what flavour is greenish mousse?
If I remember correctly it was white chocolate, Margarida!
This is so amazing! The fact that you made my stomach growl in 100 words is true talent. Keep writing!
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To Leave Comments - Please SignIn with GoogleThank you for your kind comment, Leyla! I’m glad you enjoyed these words of mine.
This was so lovely to read. I love the father’s reaction to the “flat and misshapen” cookies! It said a lot about their relationship in only a few words. Beautiful.
Thank you Marianne!
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