The Nuptial Feast

When she arrived home after work that Friday evening, Naomi slumped on the couch, puckered up her lips, and blew out a burst of air. Phew! What a day! So many fires to put out, nonstop all day. Angry clients, stubborn managers, uncooperative colleagues. Who would’ve thought that being a positive personality designer was going to be this frustrating? She really did need to get a new job.

And a boyfriend! Someone who would listen to her frustrations. Someone who could appease the turmoil of emotions that threatened to take away her sanity. Hug her and kiss her. Oh yes, someone who could cook her a delicious meal on a Friday night after a difficult day.

Her stomach grumbled.

“Time to put on your big girl undies,” she said to herself and got off the couch.

After taking a shower, she felt much better. It’s amazing what warm water and lavender soap can do to one’s spirit.

Grabbing her tablet, she looked for and found a bookmarked recipe.

Spaghetti and meatballs from outer space. Sounded odd but yum.

The recipe included some exotic ingredients. She had gone to the International Grocer to purchase them because she had never heard of them. She had found the recipe in one of those New Agey sites online. Those hippy types sure liked to experiment with different herbs and spices. She was more of a meat and potatoes kind of gal, but hey, it didn’t hurt to experiment a little now and then.

Putting on some silky jazz, she closed her eyes for a moment and opening the patio door, she took in a deep breath. The lights of the city were beginning to wink on. In the distance, the sky over Berlin was a deep orange because of the nano-haze. She sighed just thinking about all the mayhem the nanite storm had wrought a few days ago.

Naomi closed the patio door and made her way to the kitchen.

She boiled the spaghetti and prepared the meat seasoning, which included an assortment of odd-looking spices, bits of dried leafs, and pastes that made her eyes water when she took a whiff.

“This better be good.”

She set the table and even lit up a candle. Just because she didn’t have a boyfriend didn’t mean she wasn’t a romantic.

After saying a short prayer, she took a sip of the wine and grabbing her fork, she poked the spaghetti. Steam rose in the air with a strange and enticing aroma. She twirled her fork and manage to grab a few of the slippery noodles.

When the spaghetti touched her tongue, her eyes widened. She took a bite.

“Oh my god. This is delicious!” she said.

Cleansing her palette with a sip of wine, she then cut a morsel of meatball and put it in her mouth.

A delightful sensation spread across her lips. Flavourful juices ran down the side of her mouth.

“This is really good!” she said, dabbing the side of her mouth with a napkin.

The Jazz rang so beautiful in her ear. She had never really noticed. There was a joie de vivre, as they say in France (or at least she thought it was France). Yes, there was sadness and heartbreak in the melodies, but there was also a bubbly joy that was a positive expression of life.

She swayed her shoulders to the Jazz music as she ate. Twirling her fork on the sinuous noodles and scooping them up with a bit of meatball.

Her tongue tingled.

She stopped eating for a moment and looked down at her plate. The meatballs looked so beautifully smooth with just a bit of texture. She had never seen them cooked like that. Grabbing one, she brought it up to her nose and inhaled deeply. Mm! The nice aroma livened up her senses. She squeezed it a little and watched the juices glisten in the light as they ran down the length of her finger. Bringing it to her mouth, she nibbled it and savored the amazing flavors. The seasoning was perfect.

Then Naomi grabbed a handful of noodles with each hand and ate them ravenously. Bringing them up to her mouth and slurping them up with gusto. The noodles began to wrap around her fingers, oily and slippery. As if they were alive, they writhed over her blouse, across her bosoms and down her skirt, wrapping themselves in the most intimate places, then sliding over her mouth, where they deposited tomato sauce on the tip of her tongue. The sauce was smeared on her face as the noodles slid over it, embracing her trembling face with a warm delicious texture.

It tastes like heaven, she thought. Literally. It was so uncanny that with every bite, she felt as if she was being lifted up in the air. Misty clouds blew around her. Her apartment was gone. The city was gone. She was now floating above it all. Above her home. Above her self and all the beings that dwelled there. The stars twinkled around her, true and pure. Glittering in the voidness of the space in which she floated.

“Listen, child of Earth,” a voice reverberated then. It was everywhere as if on a loud speaker. “Cast aside all mortal worries for you are now my bride. Your sole purpose on Earth is to praise the glories of the delicious and eternal. Return then to your abode, there you will find repose and peace, the consummation of our marriage.”

Her vision cleared as if from a fog. Looking down at the table before her, she saw that her plate was clean. There was tomato sauce everywhere, even on the chairs. Had she been writhing on top of the table? There were prints all over it. She looked at her legs and arms and saw they too were covered in sauce as well.

“What in the world?”

Naomi ran off to the bathroom and stood under the shower stream. As the cold water fell on her face and down her naked body, she felt a sense of elation. She licked her lips as the pleasant sensation spread throughout her and she moaned. A smile appeared on her lips. She would have to tell everyone about this dish. Everyone deserved the joy of spaghetti and meatballs from outer space.