Lentils

“No reason to lie when you can shock them with the truth. It’s more interesting anyway,” you said.

Lentils, cooked or not, are still lentils. They just smell different. I squeezed them tightly in palm of my hand.

“Anthony, why’d you give me cooked lentils? That’s so weird. Why are you so weird?” He always loved lentils. The red kind, not the green.

“Anthony. Darling. Let’s walk up this hill and catch the last sunset together. It’ll be worth it. I’ll buy you a home by the sea, just like you wanted.”

You asked me why.

“Because that’s what people do when they love each other, Anthony. That’s what we do.”

For the unforgettable – Ecuadorian flute bearing – MJ.

-mh-

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