Dirk’s long, strong hands grasped the green, held over the deep-brown bamboo bowl, and tore in lingering, sensuous movements. Lettuce had never looked so inviting.
Greta gasped as he grabbed the knife and drew it across the ripe, red tomato. Its juices flowed, a lush fountain, across the pale polyethylene cutting board.
She moaned in pleasure.
He grasped the clip on the bag of slivered almonds, and sprinkled nuts liberally over the salad.
Holding up two bottles, he gazed at her from under his straight, dark eyebrows.
“I choose…” she nearly panicked, “…the light balsamic.”
She lost consciousness.
© Liz Husebye Hartmann (2012)
Blast from the past! This came up on my social-media feed, from a long-dead Writer’s Website: Tracy Fabre’s Prompt: Let’s try another genre, in honor of the group name (Genre Shorties). Write me a ROMANCE in 100 words or less. And please use the words lettuce and lush.
4 thoughts on “50 Shades of Salad”
I’m never going to look at a salad in quite the same way again!
My work here is done. Hee hee!
Lol–she lost consciousness!
Too much stress!