(Author’s note: The last time I wrote, I had just started the process of moving to a new place. Happy enough, I’m moved in and doing well. Changed up a bunch of things, and I feel good about prospects down the line. Especially the freedom of being able to write while looking at an interesting suburban neighborhood. Anyhow, here’s an unusual take on today’s Friday Fictioneers entry…)
by Miles H. Rost
“Atsuko, you’ve never made Christmas cookies before?”
Atsuko Inori flushed, her secret exposed.
“Well, we have eggs, flour, sugar. Do we have vanilla?”
“Vanilla? No vanilla,” she said, “Cannot get from big supa.”
Stephano opened her refrigerator, and smiled.
“You have lemons. Lemons make real good Christmas cookies.”
She moved her hips slightly, almost dancing.
Stephano looked up, catching her.
“You wanted to make lemon cookies, didn’t you?”
“I like lemons. My tongue dances, just like me, when I eat.”
Stephano stifled a chuckle, bringing down bowls from their cupboard.
“Well, let’s not waste time. Anytime you dance, I’m happy.”