She turned her attention to the mouthwatering produce.
Prepare it, first; paint it, second; eat it, third. Or,
maybe, eat it as I go. She smiled and licked her lips.
She hefted a firm, shiny cucumber, curving her fingers
around it. I like the way this feels. It’s just the right
size and shape. Her artist’s eye caressed the leafy
greens tinged with burgundy, sitting next to the long,
stiff, pale leaves of the romaine. Beautiful! She
fingered a large, papery, delicate leaf of light green
butter lettuce, noting its healthy appearance. The leaves
were big, full, and fresh. The roots burst from the head,
the tendrils still seeking life from the moist dirt clinging
to each fiber. She squinted and held out her hand as if she
were painting, stroking the air with delicacy.
A carton of bright red strawberries lay nestled in the
corner of the box. She took one of the strawberries, flipped
up the faucet handle and let the water dribble on the berry.
She slowly inched up the solid, stainless steel handle until
the liquid gushed. Holding the plump, ripened fruit under
the cool water, she let her fingertips move gently over the
stippled surface. Her hand coaxed the water faucet off, and
she bit the sweet, succulent berry, savoring the juices that
filled her mouth. Mmm. I think I need more.
When she’d finished her feast of berries, she removed the
lettuce, the smooth, waxy, yellow bananas, the glistening
apples, and the pale, greenish-yellow mottled pears. She
arranged them along the countertop, eyeing each
appreciatively. She regarded them through one eye, then the
other. The apple, she decided. She ran a fingertip
along the lustrous red-streaked surface before picking it
up. With deliberate care, she lovingly buffed the skin to a
gloss with a clean, soft, cotton cloth, turning it over and
over in her hands, taking delight in the firm girth of the
Honeycrisp. Seizing a knife from the drawer, she buffed the
blade smooth with the same cloth, until her smiling face
gleamed in the polished steel. She gripped the knife handle
and slowly, deliberately pierced the flesh of the apple. The
tip of the steel blade parted the skin and the tiniest bead
of moisture seeped from the slit. She licked the sweet
droplet, savoring the sugary nectar. She pushed the blade
deeper into the flesh. As it gave way, it sprayed her face
with tiny beads of juice.
Grabbing a silky piece of satin from the shelf, she arranged
the apple slice, the berries and the lettuce leaves between
the pink folds and prepared to apply paint to canvas.