Monday, August 27, 2007

Stale Breakfast

Sunday morning.

I got breakfast ready, cereal, coffee and a couple of slices of carrot cake I baked the night before. I had them all laid out on the table, then I sat down at the dining table, ate and read.

Suddenly I just sat up and turned to ask you how did you enjoy your breakfast. But it was an empty seat next to me. You were not there. You were thousands of miles away. How I wished you could be here and we could do this simple stuff like having breakfast together or simply talking?

The carrot cake tasted stale.

I miss you, terribly.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

You are sweet. My husband says that too whenever I am away. And he loves cooking like you do. Maybe those who love food tend to be sentimental? :-) hahaha

HP

Boonsky said...

You'll only find out how bitter I am when you meet me in person. :o) Thanks for dropping by.