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Saturday, August 05, 2006


Sitting at the table on the balcony I looked out towards the horizon. The sea looked calm, the sky clear, with only the odd cloud waiting to be boiled away by the sun that was gradually climbing over the mountains behind our apartment.

The table before me was laden with breakfast; a pot of steaming coffee, a jug of chilled, freshly squeezed orange juice, a rack of toast, butter, white plates, shining silver cutlery. The day's newspaper lay folded to the latest Sudoku puzzle I was becoming more and more adept at. The sports pages were strewn across the only free space on the table.

I smoked a cigarette, admiring the view, listening to the small Spanish village coming to life. The harbour, over to the right and partially hidden by the rocky outcrop of the mountain, was beginning to get crowded as local fishermen headed for their small boats and the English cafes opened for passing trade; hungover English couples and families with 2.4 children looking for bacon, sausage and egg in this foreign land.

I flicked the stub of my cigarette over the balcony to the scrub below. There was no danger of starting a fire. The sprinklers were set to come on shortly.

Pouring a cup of coffee I finished reading about the latest football transfers and leaned back, mug in hand, putting my feet up on the white wall. I watched three green birds swoop to nest in a nearby tree, reminding myself that I would have to find out what they were, before promptly forgetting all about them as I did daily.

The baby splashed happily in her pool to my left and I glanced over to see what she was giggling at this time. Her smile made me grin as she kicked her feet in the water.

I heard the patio door open. Putting my feet to the floor and turning in my chair I watched you come onto the balcony. You were wearing a light blue bikini, your breasts held safely but tantalisingly by the fabric. A sheer sarong around your waist added to the "less is more" effect, your legs flashed briefly as you walked towards me. Blonde-brown hair, swept over your shoulders, fell around your face as you leaned down to kiss me. I kissed back, savouring the feel of your lips on mine.

You knelt by the baby, kissing her head and making sure she was comfortable in the pool. My wife and daughter, the shining lights of my life.

You sat and I handed you the white pot and a knife before you even had chance to ask; "Pass the jam, darling."

Our morning ritual. I never tired of it.

Comments on "Jam"


Blogger Diana said ... (9:18 PM) : 

Beautiful, SL. Really tugged my heart.


Blogger SL said ... (1:45 PM) : 

Thank you, Di. Funny the things that come to mind from these prompts, isn't it!


Blogger Delboy's Daughter said ... (9:09 AM) : 



Blogger Tami said ... (5:00 PM) : 

Great job SL!


Blogger SL said ... (4:26 AM) : 

DD - a good sigh, I hope?

Tami - thank you very much.


Blogger Delboy's Daughter said ... (2:29 AM) : 

Hell yeah a good sigh.


Blogger Pam said ... (7:15 AM) : 

How absoluteley lovely...I sighed too.


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