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Six sentence Sunday
Oct. 14th, 2012 12:47 pmFrom one of the many WIPs I have which resolutely refuse to be finished...
Christopher waited until the front door had finally closed before going to the kitchen. At home, when he was young, Saturday morning had always been baking day—cakes and bread and little sweet biscuits—and the smell of the little fairy cakes brought those days back vividly. Funny how smells seemed to evoke the most powerful memories.
The hawthorn had been almost unbearable this year—he’d met Mark one unseasonably warm May, at a party in a garden blessed with a profusion of blossoms. He’d not been able to resist drinking in their fragrance this spring and had immediately regretted it. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to enjoy their scent again.
Christopher waited until the front door had finally closed before going to the kitchen. At home, when he was young, Saturday morning had always been baking day—cakes and bread and little sweet biscuits—and the smell of the little fairy cakes brought those days back vividly. Funny how smells seemed to evoke the most powerful memories.
The hawthorn had been almost unbearable this year—he’d met Mark one unseasonably warm May, at a party in a garden blessed with a profusion of blossoms. He’d not been able to resist drinking in their fragrance this spring and had immediately regretted it. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to enjoy their scent again.
