Table Manners
I was there. I was there when she excused herself to use the ladies’ room, wrapped in green, a flower stem, and glided across the stone floor out of sight. I saw him. I saw him reach across; creeping arm, shark-like, over silk tablecloth. It crossed borders, into enemy waters. And up went fork. Up went her veal. Down went fork. Down went her veal. Into his mouth- mashed, compressed, crunched, slobbered on. Fork licked clean with moist tongue, no remnants. Clean scene. Placed in original location: prongs lean against left edge of plate, body touching wine glass. I was there. I saw him resume position, a ninja creeping in silent night. I was there when she returned, still in green, sat down in her red chair, an unsuspecting bite. I watched as one half of his mouth turned upwards towards the crystal chandelier.
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