Lunch Before Lunch



Scoffing the last piece of hot meat pie,

she wiped away the traces of evidence from around her mouth,

smeared gravy, flaky pastry.

Just then he entered,

and looked at her surprised.

“Are you still on for lunch?” he asked hesitantly.

“Yes! I’m starving” she exuded.

His stare moving down toward her breasts.

His smile awkward.

“Let me grab my coat.” she said turning around,

pastry flakes scattering as they fell from her blouse.

How embarrassing! she thought.


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