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Looking back, Mike cannot recall when he stopped having meals at home. Being single for longer than the average, it was easier to eat at the pub or the local Maccas. That food was as good as Mike could rustle up in his own lame excuse for a kitchen.
When Lucille came into his life - inexplicably, suddenly – Mike found himself waking up with the same old song on the gramophone. Cooking is a calling, a skill, a passion. If you aint got it, then leave the kitchen.
He and Lucille would shower and wander down to ‘the precinct’ to see what was open. Not for them Bircher Muesli or Couscous with roast potato and stringed English spinach. Not for them roasted beans from Toby’s Estate or Campos. They were simple folk, Mike and Lucille. Hamburger with the lot, folk.
And when Raelene came along, she fitted like a glove.
2 comments:
oh yes back to the old Julie. I love it.
Not fully back I suspect.
The richness for which you yearn, comes from specific sentence structures, eg starting a sentence with a participle "Easing her way out of the cupboard ..." and from a liberal smattering of proper nouns.
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