Day Four

Tonight I only want to write about dinner, that we made together while dancing in the kitchen and laughing at each other. I want to write about the little squares of Italian cracker spread with cream cheese and flecked with smoked salmon and black pepper, served on one of our large white square plates, eaten outside, our first antipasto al fresco, with a rosé wine in my birthday glasses. Then elegant trout fillets grilled with lemon and fat chips, all odd sizes as I never was any good at even chopping, and rocket dressed only with the lemon oil that I’m in love with, that I could drink for breakfast or pour over ice-cream, and more rosé, the colour of the trout. Then grapes, a deeper shade of red pink to finish, like the sky darkening outside.