She stands at the kitchen sink, her hands playing aimlessly with the leftover bubbles. As her left hand caresses each bubble tenderly, she reaches with her right to turn the faucet on. The bubbles are whisked away by the cool water.

She sighs as she peers out the window above the sink. “He should be here by now,” she says aloud, “he knows I hate waiting.” She brushes the leftover crumbs of her cookie off of the counter. The morsels land near an ant patrolling the ground on his search for food, and he eagerly seizes them. “Take my crumbs will you?” she remarks as her heel crunches the ant with the crumbs.

She casually leaves the kitchen and wanders into the living room towards her favorite chair, which smells of her grandmother’s perfume with a hint of mothballs from the years it had spent in storage. She grabs a blanket before dropping herself into the chair for a quick nap.

The sound of gravel crunching under the weight of the tires stirs her from her brief slumber. She lingers in her chair for a moment, and then takes her time walking towards the door. Her hand touches the brass knob as the sound of the doorbell echoes throughout the house. She pauses to look out of the peephole and slowly opens the door after confirming that it is him. The man she longed for has finally arrived. He stands before her with overgrown stubble on his face and his usual blue shoes, worn from the time he spends standing at work.

They smile at each other, as time seems to stand still for an eternity. “Eight oh one,” he suddenly interrupts the silence.

She appears offended by his intentional interruption of their bonding, but reaches into her pocket and pulls out a ten, a one, and a penny. He reaches for the money and their hands touch for a second, bliss in her mind and nothing more than business in his.

He hands her the box, thanks her for the extra, and heads back towards his cars. He is uninterested in indulging in the goods with her, and she is momentarily saddened as she closes the door.

She places the box carefully on the dining table and prepares herself for the revealing. She cautiously opens the top and gasps. The smell of cheesy goodness hits her nostrils at once.

“Perfection in a box,” she says as she takes the first, warm bite.

  1. I have a feeling I know what’s for dinner tonight.

  2. mmmm I imagine that pizza a nice garlic pizza with extra cheese….