Comfort Food

Liz Young


If you like my work, buy me a virtual cup of coffee at Ko-Fi.

“What’s this?” Aaron viewed the cutting board with dismay.

“You wanted to know how to cook. This is your first lesson.”

It was his third date with Melissa. He’d been divorced for two years. He didn’t want to at the age of 63, but his friends pushed him into that dating service.

“What are we making?”

“Something healthier than what you usually eat.” She pressed in behind him. He felt the not-so-subtle push of her breasts as a motivator. It wasn’t enough.

“Where are you going?”

He grabbed his phone and headed for the door. “Out for a burger. Bye.”

It is once again time to participate in Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ 19 May 2023 edition of Friday Fictioneers. The idea is to use the image above as the prompt for creating a poem or story no more than 100 words long. My word count is 100.

I admit I didn’t exactly “click” with the image but I made the best of it. I imagine that if (Heaven forbid) anything were to happen between me and my wife and I found myself single, I would not be even slightly tempted to try dating. In the 21st century, it seems an “iffy” proposition at best, plus at my age, I’m pretty much habituated.

To read other stories based on the prompt, visit Inlinkz.

To read a story that I’m more into writing, pick up a copy of the Existential Hologram SciFi anthology and read my short story “The Simulated Woman.”

23 thoughts on “Comfort Food

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