She sat and stared. For weeks she had looked out the window of the office where she worked towards the shop across the road and admired the object of her desire. Everyday he sat, near the front counter with an indescribable sweetness to the contours of his shape.
With the warm arrival of spring, his appearance in the shop had made her imagine what it would be like to peel away the layers that covered him like a cocoon. With each day, she reproached herself for her weakness, yet her eyes were drawn in his direction.
Throughout the day, she thought of other things; of the work at hand, of the approaching holidays, of her post-work date with the treadmill, (Christmas had been unkind), and of the quiet flat that awaited her at the end of the day. However, as the hour of her coffee break approached, she found herself looking back across the street and pictured what it would be like to put him to her eager lips.
What is he like on the inside? She thought. She grew excited at the possibilities.
She wished he could be hers that she could tear what covered him and toss it away into the corner so that she might devour his whole body at her leisure.
Finally, when all resistance had melted away, she drew herself up and went across the street. He had to be hers.
The man at the counter greeted her with a look of expectation and recognition. “I thought I might see you in here.” He smiled and leaned in towards her, his hand sliding across the polished glass of the counter. “Is there something in particular I can do for you?”
A mischievous smile spread across her face. “I’ll take the chocolate bunny.”
© Eliza Dashwood 2007