Like jasmine, nighttime soft and delicate, heard in the sudden pause of a dozen conversations.
Like curry, seasoning small talk into sublime soul sharing.
Like molasses, soft and comforting, though we’re “just friends”.
Like pure summer dew, innocent and clear kisses.
Like sugar, delicious and excruciatingly sweet.
Like butter, melting words enhancing our flavor.
Like yellow sliced cheese, once delightful, now blasé.
Like jalepeno, ferocious heat cursing stupid infidelities.
Like ice, a no-taste defined by cold, the absence of heat
Like copper, metallic aftertaste lingering long after the real thing is gone.
Like whiskey, hateful burning but never, ever enough.
This week’s challenge was: The Voice. As always, my story is below, and you can hear mine alone here (MP3 link). If you swing by 100 Word Stories you can hear or read the rest of the entries and vote for your favorite.