Puma

The weather was hot and humid. Walking outside felt like opening up a steamy pot. A warm and sticky breeze flowed all around us but didn’t seem to provide us with any oxygen. We decided to stay inside for the evening. At this time the world transformed and the unbearable heat turned into bitterly cold in a matter of hours. My stomach was killing me, a subtle growl that repeated itself as if seeking for attention, made everyone’s eyes meet mine. “Someone’s hungry.” Puma smiled. I loved her more than life itself, more than summer nights, motorcycle rides and even more than Saturdays at June’s. Her rusty back made a noise when she got up. Her grey hair poured beautifully from her head and it seemed to me that despite her age she never walked to get to places, she flowed. An oversized warm ball made its way in front of me. “I haven’t cooked in a while, that was fun!” Puma joked. Seeing her happy uneven smile made my heart skip a beat. I looked at the dish, the steam warmed my lungs. The whole house smelled of spices and stew. All was well until I saw it. Chicken, swimming around the reddish liquid. I am deadly allergic, but I love Puma, I could never offend her this way. It was all-over as well, I couldn’t possibly take it out without missing half the flavour. I gazed at her; she couldn’t wait for me to try it. Should I? I haven’t eaten it in so long, there’s a chance I outgrew it. Sure, it’s possible. I could never offend Puma. The spoon slowly reached my mouth, a spoonful of chicken. Fleetly it ran down my throat knowing that it would soon be coming up again. I’m deadly allergic to chicken, but I love Puma, more than life itself.