Diner Discussions

By Anita Igbine 10 months ago

A cold evening in a diner,

Food has been put in front of me but my attention is some other place.

Two men are engaged in conversation, their topic a woman

It seems she has enthralled them both

They drink alcohol freely and speak too loudly

And though I do not mean to eavesdrop I can’t help but listen as they speak.

I too want to see this woman

The way they describe her, she must be a goddess:

Petite in size, portable the men called it

Slim waist with hips full.

Hair that reaches towards the heavens

Curls blessing every strand.

Bronze skin,

A heart shaped face and subtle cheek bones

I almost feel I have seen her

The image in my head is so clear at the moment.

Let’s call these men Mr. A and Mr. B

Mr. A says to Mr. B

“Have you seen her laugh? Oh how my heart rejoices when I hear her laughter

And when she walks, her hips sway to the wind

Her skin is like caramel. I am sure it tastes sweet

Oh and her eyes, she can bore a hole through you heart with them

Mr. B laughs

These are mere vanities he says

“Have you heard her speak?

So intelligent and eloquent

And she can lift a spirit from the lowest depths

She listens with apt attention to any worry you might have

And when she does speak, she has a solution at hand.

She is loving and caring

An angel she must be

It is easy to love her for her body, but can you love her for who she is.

When her moods twist and turn like the tempest

Can you calm that stormy sea?

Have you Mr. A been able to make her move to music

It is easy to talk about love but can you give her your heart

Until then don’t talk to me about love

Because I fear Mister, you do not know the first thing about it.”

Mr. A sat quietly for some time

He seemed to ponder upon Mr. B’s words

“My good friend can you teach me how to love

I fear until now, I have had a false idea of it’s meaning

My B laughed heartily

“This is a task I am willing to undertake”

The two men left after this chattering on God knows what

And I had to face my food, which sadly had grown cold at this time.

Recommended Stories:

{{item.User.FullName}} {{item.Date | preetify}}



{{sub.User.FullName}} {{sub.Date | preetify}}



Anita Igbine
Other posts by the writer:
Trending Stories:
create stories


{{item.Date | preetify}}

No Notifications Here Yet