This challenge is to write something that includes these three things:
A cat, a bowl of soup and a beach towel
So here goes:
Like a cat she licked the bowl of soup clean when no-one was looking – not that she cared either way. Too hot really for fish soup but over the past week she’d exhausted all the other non meat options in the places to eat in Halki’s harbour. Five tavernas, all pretty much selling the same dishes, more or less expertly cooked. She longed for other tastes so much a feature of her London life – Thai, Indian, Italian, French, Japanese. Two more weeks and she’d be home, no doubt looking back longingly at the days and weeks spent in this little town where she could just be.
She had come to forget and instead in the long quiet days with so few of the usual distractions, TV, laptop, SMS, friends popping round, she had found herself in an endless loop of memories of their last days together. He’d have loved this place. They would have laughed at the same little everyday things, the priest watching the world cup final, the preposterous fat English guy in large baggy yellow shorts holding forth on subjects he really didn’t understand, her ice-cream falling out of the cone on to her new holiday sandals. She had wished she had chosen vanilla.
Yes he would have loved it here.
But he wasn’t here and she’d come to forget, not to remember his smile and the way he looked as he slept.
She grabbed her beach towel and set off back to the little studio.