Flying used to be my dream But now it’s to be like everyone Else all pretty and p..p.. P E R F E C T Flying used to be my dream But now it’s about being all Pretty and p..p.. P E R F E C T

It’s bleeding hearts, wrapped in a tough layer of skin. Droplets within that opens up to little seeds. Crimson liquid filling flowing after they are bitten.

“Distraction is what I need” I thought. The smell in the overcrowded bus made me nauseous, the smell of sweat, tobacco and junk food. I tried to look outside for something to engage my mind but there were just more people. And then I knew what to think about for the rest of my journey to Dida(grandma)’s home.

Whenever I enter Dida’s home during my monthly visits, the aroma in the house fills my heart with welcoming joy. Every month the first dinner at her house is an unusual combination of food. And she cooks them just before I arrive. The welcoming rich smell of onion, ginger and peppercorn paints a picture of the delicious dish coming up after I freshen up for dinner. As I sit at the table and she serves with a warm smile I take a moment to savour the scene in front of me. Succelent and soft mutton(goat meat) with vegtables in a stew - a simple dish but my Dida has some secret ingredient which makes it unique.  As the meat touches the mouth it melts bursting with the flavours of ginger and peppercorn and a subtle taste of goat fat.  And the unusual companion of the stew is soupy noodles. To complement the richness of the stew I slurp a forkful of noodles which again melts in my mouth, does not tease me with a gorgeous taste - but completes my palate with its simplicity. Even the beans and carrots taste heavenly as they have absorbed the slow cooked treasury of flavours from the stew. This hearty meal drains away any tiredness in my body and helps me relax.

My stop has arrived and I get down pushing the crowd aside, smiling and drooling a bit.

The delicious creamy taste of ice-cream fills my mouth, melting at the touch of my tounge giving me the shivers as it slides down my throat. The sweet sensation fills me up giving me a happy and satisfied feeling. Wanting more, I swiftly take more spoonfuls of this little piece of heaven and gobble it down. Make it even more glorious, top it with salted Carmel and whipped cream.

The poppy roll steamed in the chill winter air as the baker handed it to Ellis. Burning-hot crust smarted against her fingers. Her coin disappeared in the baker’s pocket, and she juggled the treat from hand to hand as she turned from the market stall.

Shouldering her way through the crowd, Ellis found an empty bench along the ice-packed path. She sat, balancing the roll on her knee, and pulled back the paper wrapping.

Steam blossomed into her face, scented with sugar and a hint of cinnamon. The poppy seeds glinted black along the seam of the roll, gathered like night at the center of the spiral. With practiced fingers, Ellis found the outer rim of the spiral and began to unwind the roll, just as she had from childhood.

The first bite melted on her tongue, fresh as the color of a spring morning. The flavor fluttered, a butterfly in her mouth, nearly as hard to catch as the memory of iridescent wings cradled in a cage of her father’s fingers.

She twisted off a second piece, hot as summer. Seeds stuck to her teeth like beetles, and she licked them off her sticky fingers.

The next bite, though, brought the crunch of a misplaced walnut. Ellis swiped at the shards of unwelcome flavor from her tongue. It lingered, bitter as the smell of her step-mother’s perfume on rainy autumn days. In her haste, the poppy roll teetered on her kneecap.

She lunged, but too late. The pastry plummeted to the icy ground, bouncing twice before rolling to a stop between Ellis’s feet.

With her thumb and forefinger, Ellis picked it up. Only one bite was left, the center swirl dark as night with poppy seeds. Bits of earth and ice glittered on the edge, and Ellis brushed at them with her free hand.

A quick glance proved no one was watching. With a shrug, Ellis slid the last bite into her mouth. It was gritty as fireplace ash. Ice crackled cold between her teeth, and she forced herself to swallow. It tickled her throat all the way down and followed with a dry cough that left her breath raspy.

Ellis sighed and crumpled the paper. What a waste of coin. Winter nipped at her fingers, but when she reached for her gloves, sugary stickiness pulled at the creases of her skin.

A smile stretched over her face. No one was watching. She sucked at her fingers one by one, letting the tang of sugar pucker her mouth.

As she stood to leave, the final note lingered, caressing her tongue with a flavor of poppy seed lined with a hint of salt.

The flavor of her own skin.

I knew I was in the right place. There was an overbearing smell of oil and fat and sauces that when concocted together on a sizzling pan, causes an alluring aroma that dances in the air and dives right into the nose, triggering associations of deliciousness. My mouth waters in anticipation and desire. I can see others have heeded to the call as we line up to see our stomach’s desires.

I can see the chefs turn the meat, the steaks glistening in the light, twirling like a dolphin out of water and splashing into the sauce like a pig in mud. Hot air rushes off the meat like fireworks exploding from the excitement of this creation. I am salivating even more as my mind imagines what it would be like to have that meat rolling in my mouth.

As I get closer, I can hear the sizzling of the heat against the meat. It’s as therapeutic as the sounds of a shower that takes you away from the noises of the world. The chatter of life and its distractions are silences as the bubbling oil commands to be heard. I gulp as I make the final approach.

I purchase the heavenly meat and it glistens and dances and sizzles and calls me. I grasp it. It is hot to touch but I’m drooling. Like a siren, he commands me to take a bite. Frenzied, I yield to my senses and wish to fulfil the final pledge to my stomach’s desire. I take the bite.

It’s blood red skin glistens in the moonlight,

Golden seeds flecked on the pitted skin.

A green top dripping with water,

Fresh in the sleepy glow.

There is no smell, nothing to incriminate

The lone bloodstain that sits mellow

On the cream plate below.

I can smell it cooking. The savory smell the aroma of garlic fill my nose. The sweetness of the carrots mixed with the soy sauce. All of it mixes together. The oil sizzles and pops. Who could want more. A drizzle of oil goes in. Pop pop sizzle.

The tangy smell, bitter but sweet. The pure illumination of this fiery hue. The rough bumps of peeling, rugged but smooth, soft. Lovely entirety, daily pleasure of taste and smell. Happy feelings as consumed, zesty sweet all over. Beauty of complexion, satisfaction of scents. Perfect perfume. Heavenly fragrance. Joyful relish.

Sunlight filtered through the curtains, filling the room with warm golden glow. This was an unacceptable turn of events in Jacob’s mind so instead of embracing the day he dragged the blankets over his head, refusing to acknowledge it was morning. Val had other plans though and he felt the cool air invaded his blanket tent as she slid out of bed. Jacob groaned and made a halfhearted attempt to pull her back into bed. A few minutes later he heard what first sounded like rain, but that didn’t make any sense. He could still see light peeking in the edges of the bed. That’s when when he smelled it, the only aroma that could rouse him from his comfort castle wafted gently down the hall. It was that marvelous meat known to mere mortals as bacon. Aaron couldn’t handle it anymore, he threw his blankets to the side and went to jump out bed, and promptly tumbled to the floor. It was almost as if his bed was betrayed by his sudden abandonment. This did not dissuade Aaron he quickly unwrapped the sheet he hadn’t noticed that as curled around his calf. He stubbled into the kitchen to behold Val pulling out all the stops, using his grandma’s cast iron skillet to fry up those slices of ambrosial delight with eggs over medium just like he liked them. She smiled while wordlessly placing two plates complete with buttered toast on the table. Aaron kissed her quickly with a sly grin before turning his eyes back to the bacon. Scooping up the crispy goodness with just the right balance of crunch and immediately devouring it. This was definitely worth waking up for.