Dreams. Another loaf story.
And there she was on the roof, sitting on her designer recliner chair, contemplating the stars. Looking at the sky as if it was an infinite canvas in which she could paint her dreams.
She though about last nigh. About how loaf was made, about the magic of loaf. About that process that raised her desires into a big but soft special thing. She pondered the possibilities. "How is it possible that magic could work like that", she said with a big smile on her face. Her eyes wide open appeared to reflect in the beautiful night sky, the events that took place the previous day.
The guy she was with last night was "unexpectedly amazing". Going back in her memories was a pleasuring thing. She bet her lips. And smiled. And took a deep breath. And her skin felt a slight tickle. She could even smell the moment.
Somehow she couldn't erase from her head the image of that men's hand handling the situation. Not that she wanted to. "He was in control", she murmured to herself. "I love that. I wanna be in control. I cannot wait to be in control".
A cup of a nice refreshing and sweet Moscato help with the memories. Each sip was a thought, an idea, a connection to that moment in a not so distant past. Each sip revived the tasted flavors, and gave an open mind for flavors to taste.
"He told me that next time he's gonna let me touch it. Handle it. Shape it. I just can't wait". She closed her eyes and took another deep breath.
Some nice Bossa Nova was playing in her smart phone. And to the sound of Sergio Mendes's Visions of You, her mind was filled with a symphony of moments. She started matching the rhythm of that song with memories and imagination. She mixed in her mind the thing that are, the things that were, and the things she want. To the sound of that beautiful song she whispered to her soul, "he made me loaf". Here eyes closed one more time. This time a little longer.
The morning came and it was that day in which she was going to "handle it". Her clothes were perfect for the occasion. White and black were dominant, but that deep red lipstick was another thing, it was... It reflected her desires and temptations, her hunger for that thing.
She looked deeply focused, but tempted at the same time. And off she went to her much desired moment. Off to baking school. Today, she's learning to make loaf.
#itsfoodoclock