Piquancy

I see you from across the room. That look in your eyes tells me that you mean to devour me whole…and I have a feeling I won’t mind it one bit.

A waiter crosses between us, and you duck out of view. What a tease you are! I glance around the crowd, wondering if anyone else has seen me. I’ve been waiting for this moment my entire life, but I suspect not many people are aware that tonight is my big debut.

There you are again, coming closer, with a glass of deep red wine in your hand. Is that a Cabernet Sauvignon? I hope so, because I know you will want those particular notes hanging on your tongue as you bring me to your lips.

I’ll bet that wine has been maturing in its bottle longer than I’ve been alive. Like that wine, I have grown more and more complex with each passing year.

When I was only several months old, I dreamed of making it into some gourmet chef’s mac and cheese recipe. After three years, I saw some of my comrades on the shelf leave to become stars of their very own fondues. It took five years for me to mature, but now I have reached the pinnacle: I am here at this party, with you.

You look at me, and then you look away. Who is that blonde you are speaking with? You’re looking at her the way you were looking at me before…I admit, I’m a little bit jealous.

Ah, now you are pointing to me. So you want to share me with her? I suppose I won’t mind, as long as you get to taste me first. Yes, pop that fig into her mouth. Oh, you’ve got me right where you want me, don’t you?

You are pushing that knife through my rind with such mastery. I know I’ve hardened with age, but you’ll find I’ve become much sweeter as well. You know as well as I that you don’t need any crackers or bread to appreciate my favors. I come to you naked and unassuming, taking all my enjoyment from the smile that plays across your lips.

You consume me, and my pleasure is complete.

For the Scriptic prompt exchange this week, lisa gave me this prompt: Write a story about anything you’d like, but write it from a 5 year old’s perspective, and I gave Jester Queen this prompt: Don’t touch it; it’s evil!