Dinner.
He enjoys her company.
But there is more.
The growing need to see her over the years, ignoring her retirement. (No good could do to my sanity distorted).
There is something more.
We begin by coveting what we see every day.
And right now, sitting with her at the dinner table, struggling to contain the excitement that takes over him…
Don't you feel eyes moving over your body?
… While her eyes searching for something.
Dinner is ready.
"Veal".
The smell of smoke and blood can still be felt, but it requires a more sensitive sense of smell.
He is grateful to have her for dinner.
Office hours are for patients. My kitchen is always open to friends.
She finally accepts what I want to offer -
My friendship.
My loyalty.
My devotion.
She cuts a piece of meat.
I do admire your courage. He suddenly thinks that if he had to eat her, he would choose her heart.
But the purpose is another here.
He wants to feed her.
One single thought leads back to the past. "Mischa".
Would you have fed me to your little sister because you loved me?
What he is now is all because his past.
His childhood in Lithuania. The last days of II World War. The loss of his parents. And then watch his little sister being killed and eaten by hungry and cruel soldiers.
He knows she also has her demons.
Be grateful. Our scars have the power to remind us that the past was real.
She put the veal on the mouth and seems to like.
The look on her face.
She knows.
He smiles. She mumbles in contentment.
Do you believe a man could become so obsessed with a woman… Could he daily feel a stab of hunger for her and find nourishment in the very sight of her? I think so. But would she see through the bars of his plight and ache for him?
The answer will come in time. Now he just needs another glass of wine.
End.