1 The constraints: 1) No more than
one hour. 2) No more than 20 lines.
The result ? Genius or Not.

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6th November 2010

By Kate Lermitte Campbell | 2010 November 06

Your hand hovers on the handle between two worlds.  

One whispers warm through my hair.  

The other glows golden behind steamed-up glass.  

You hesitate too late. The door has opened and inhaled we spin giddy from our coats.  

First notes perceived: steak (rare), glasses (two, champagne), waiters collar (white, starched), laugh (high).      

The invisible chef d’orchestre knows what he wants. The concert is complicated but there’s no turning back.  

Your accent sharpens, my back straightens, directed we take our places in the pit.  

Voices low we consider the tones of taste laid out on the score. Are you alto or bass?  

Bearnaise.  

The candle warms the red that flowers above the sapless stem.  

Bream.  

Blue.  

Your hands test the strings as I hum C. Complicit, then? To an extent, as our hands probe the circle of bright white cloth.  

Fork poised I hesitate for the angle’s all important and I lack your triangular assurance that cuts swift and clean, striking chords in key with the carnivorous aesthetic of your chosen tableau.  

I must hold my own. Light the scales lift leaving the skeleton bare and I listen as the flesh flakes gentle as a flute.  

As the plates rise I become aware of something new: an insistent counter-tempo hovering on the circumference of my gaze. Before I can catch it though the movement ends with a long-fingered gesticulation that sends a diamond-studded drum-roll across the room.  

You catch my eye above the mousse-like echo and synchronized we rise before the final bar leaving a final note to resonate softly in our empty coffee cups.

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