Twenty Minutes

Another English assignment, a descriptive essay about the anxiety of an aggravated woman.

--

The soft clamor of whispers and chimes and tinks of silverware and glasses were simply part of the rolling waves of the piano notes lulling hypnotically in the background. The tips of her fingers traced the curved outline of the table, the smooth velvety feel of the cloth was almost sensual to the touch. The fingers walked a trail towards the glass of bubbly gold, past the empty platter--her nerves and anxiety compelling her to move as she waited impatiently.

Champagne as smooth as melted chocolate rolled down her throat, her cool blue mint eyes absorbing her surroundings frantically over the slender rim of the glass. A fidgety hand pushed back heated copper colored hair, the painted nails giving the scalp a nervous scratch. Buttered scallops bubbling and simmering in garlic sauce was served to the table near her. The continuous soft sizzling hiss and occasional pops and the rich and succulent aroma of the glistening plump pearls earned a gurgle from her empty stomach and her mouth water.

A stiletto heel rapped against the polished caramel colored marble floor in a rapid, anxious patter of tack, tack, tack. Jiggling her wrist she took a gander at her sleek golden watch. “Twenty-minutes.” Her sensuous full lips, red hot as a pepper, dropped to a displeased frown. “He’s late.”