Monday, March 24, 2008

Easter in the City

There was a lamb shoulder stuffed with swiss chard and the swish of a country dress, a clean one-bedroom and flutes of champagne, a forkful of lemon cloud and my own sore fingers from lifting a pan of too-hot Easter cookies.

The sun streamed in from a wall-less moment, the wine did nothing to dissuade the devolving of conversation: transsexuals, our brackets, gossip.

An intimate and beautiful Easter, the likes of which I have not had in a long time; no stress, many hands to clean the mess, and feeling not just full, but simply satisfied all day long.

And then I went home, peeled off those swiss dots, and tried to reinvent a word for “the indie set” for my article due this morning…

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

where were you?