I cut my finger yesterday, Deep. I was stupefied for having been overcome by what I presume was a butter knife, even worse a dessert. I’ve never been able to distinguish one from the other for both indulge in my exquisites. Never have I ever used a spoon to cut the flan as delicate as it is or may seem; I butcher it into a jumbled mess of halves and to my surprise they wiggle in the most grotesque way possible, almost forever, stupefied by my disregard…I press my finger to stop its misery and gobble one half up by carefully placing the same knife under it and slowly reaching for it. Mmmm…no eggy taste, just buttery. Perfection! Now the other half…And I drop it on the table creating chaos on the table cloth. The waiter glances at me. Heedless of the customers, I collect the scattered pieces with my fingers and stuff them into my mouth. An aged couple watches me, they have been for a while…He, a long white beard and piercing blue eyes, impeccably dressed with a tweed jacket of green and brown-
“You go girl!”
“Well thank you sir”
I smile at the waiter, good-looking fella. Winking, he smiles back. Mmmmm Flan, flan…
Heck! Is the bleeding ever gonna stop? Those blood droplets are all over my white tiled floors now, may I say the most beautiful trail of delicate retribution. The doorbell rings. Damn you Flan!
Author of six published books, 2 in English, one upcoming fantasy novel in English “MaXistra:Tales of Fortune” to be published abroad. Childhood and adolescence in Spain. Prizes for creative writing.