Yuki Asahina

Sean King

Benjamin Chandler

Robin Devereaux

C Alexandra

English

Tom looked at the messy table where everything was turned upside down including the salt shaker. There was no butter in its slot, instead there was a ketchup stain where the salt should be, and he knew exactly what his wife had done. Tom had always said juxtaposing isn't easy.

Abstract expressionist dinner parties were her passion. She served sausage dipped in marmalade, marshmallow crusted eggplant, savory radish and corn custard. Roofing tiles and flip-flops served as plates. Dinners were often a revelatory experience, but they weren’t pleasant.

But she did have one steady, devoted clientele—pregnant women with bizarre food cravings. They flocked to her dinners like monarch butterflies to milkweed. "Isn't this a cliche?" her husband said, "I mean, you weren't like this when you were pregnant." She held him and whispered,

“You’re right, mi amor,” as she picked up his hand and kissed his palm. She looked into his eyes and leaned in close. “My… appetites were somewhat… unconventional.” She licked his wrist then. And bit down. Hard.

Untitled