Purple Marmalade (3)

I pick up one of the toast
and take a bite.

Crunch.



Crunch.



Munch. 

The jam has a
popping and loud
taste of berry and
honey fused



together


as one.

It’s pleasing to
the tongue and
deeply delicious.

Suddenly, my eyes
begin to water.

Why am I crying?


Sniffle. Sniffle.

A quick flash of a
image comes to
mind.

I think it was…..

of a charming smile that
belongs to someone other
than I.

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