Food My Muse Novels & Stories

Just absolute, single-minded focus. I glance down at the packet in my hand and read the label aloud, because apparently six in the morning on a kitchen floor is where my dignity has come to rest. "Mousse di pollo con brodo di verdure arricchito." I look back at her. "Chicken mousse with enriched vegetable broth. Very distinguished. You eat better than most of my associates." Mina meows without pausing, without looking up, without granting me anything except the ongoing grace of her continued appetite.

But though she searched the Internet and scoured books on her condition, she was out of ideas. Binges were guilty pleasure for others. For her, they were potentially deadly. Cooking was too much trouble, so she fixed a bowl of muesli. She’d made a big batch of it yesterday out of toasted oats, nuts, chopped dates and cinnamon. Drizzled with a little honey, it was perfect for mornings like this. She’d barely started when Mathin walked in. She greeted his “good morning” with a mumble. He stopped and considered her. His nose flared, almost as if he were testing the air. “Are you all right? You seem…a little off.”

hanging on the walls…I couldn't just stop thinking about her. I forced myself to keep moving. To listen when Jasmine nudged my shoulder and pointed at some ridiculous ancient helmet, whispering, “Imagine you in that. Very chic.” After the museum, we grabbed lunch at a tiny café tucked between brick buildings. The place smelled like cinnamon and fresh bread, warm enough to thaw the chill from our fingers. Jasmine ordered a sandwich bigger than her face and teased me for sticking to black coffee. “Classic Ryans,” she said, biting into her food. “Broody drink of choice.”

I grin, when I heard Marry because that's my favorite food too, I can make western, Indian, and Italian food all thanks to the internet. I start preparing some special Indian chicken dishes while listening to one of my favorite songs 'Mad at Disney' by Salem because I agree with her on that. After completing all the stuff I properly pack everything in a lunch box with some decoration which gives mouthwatering look to the dishes. I quickly went upstate to refresh up myself, adding some lipgloss on my lips I am ready to go, honestly, I am not a fan of makeup, after taking my sling bag from the dressing table making sure to put his card in it, I head back downstairs.

“I thought you might be hungry, so I brought something for you. It’s tiramisu from Hamilton’s most famous bakery.” A small warmth spread through her chest. She accepted the bag with a smile. “Thank you.” It wasn’t just the thoughtful gift that touched her but the care behind it. She opened the box and took a bite. “It’s delicious.” Mike glanced over at her, his eyes soft with curiosity. “You look a little thinner than last time. Have you been working too hard?” “It’s fine,” Miranda said with a light smile. “My project’s at a critical stage, so I sometimes forget to eat.”

Yes, he was younger than Justin, but it never felt so… dull or boring. The delicious food arrived, but every bite became agony itself. Justin chewed loudly, smack by obnoxious smack, the sound grating against my nerves as my misophonia got triggered. My hands tightened around the fork and knife, my jaw clenching as I tried to block it out. Focusing on the soft lull of jazz music or how uncomfortably tight the dress had started to feel. I couldn’t even enjoy the delicious lobster. Chugging the half glass of wine, I finally mustered the courage to break the tension.

But in front of me are bacon, fried egg, sausage, mushrooms, baked beans, toast, and grilled tomatoes. And let's not forget the damned coffee! “Isn't it good to change your diet once in a while?” Miguel gently tucked a stray hair behind my left ear. I shyly glanced up at him. “Thanks.” “It's no problem.” He ruffled the same hair he helped me comb. “Oh, my. They are just spreading their PDA everywhere!” Star groaned. “This is like a blow to someone as single as me!” “Why don't you leave? What are you still doing here?” Miguel snapped at her.

She scooped up the stack of papers he’d just straightened for her and ambled over to the sofa. Marcus tracked her swaying figure appreciatively, her sweet curves highlighted by the setting sun through the windows beyond her. Personally, he had little preference, which was why she had a choice in the first place. He only knew he didn’t feel up to cooking for them after spending half his day in boring meetings at the FBI’s branch office. “Thai sound good? I’m craving a nice spicy beef pho.” Flipping open a manila folder and scattering its contents across the coffee table, Miria replied agreeably, “Ooh! Yum! From that place off—”

I try not to let my eyes linger on her face for too long and busy myself with chewing my food. Before us are platters of boiled fish, brown rice, salad made up of dices of carrots and slices of lettuce, baskets of bread rolls, jugs of milk and mead. The array of food overwhelms me. I try not to seem greedy and limit my plate to two bread rolls, pieces of spicy fish and the salad. I bite into the soft warm bread and my taste buds sing out in delight. The bread is sweetened with honey and contains resins and thin slices of coconut in them. I gobble them down and gulp a cup of milk to accompany it.

Keysa replied. Juna immediately ordered 5 fried rice for all of them. Aiys, Keysa sat next to each other and faced Juna, keysa and Gibral. Don't ask Alan he has been busy with his worm game. "Still dizzy?" asked Juna. "A little," Aiys replied with a small smile. Aiys's face was pale, he forgot his absorption plus his first physics exam. Their order came, they quickly ate it. Aiys is smiling happily. Thank you, God, Has brought together Carve out a trail of happiness ~ Alisya