The Perfect Meal

Miriam gripped the warm plate with two hands as she carried it with particular care to the dining table. A satisfied smile at her own grandeur graced her thin lips as she set it down on the immaculate place setting and took a moment to admire her handiwork.

She was using one of the new silk placemats she had picked up for a bargain at the markets last Sunday, and she had laid out her best silverware. The expensive crystal wine glass was filled with her favourite white wine, the bottle chilling in the bucket on the stand beside the table. The gentle tinkling of piano music set the mood from the living room. A single taper candle burned merrily in her favourite brass candlestick.

That's it! she congratulated herself and pulled out her chair to sit.

As she eased down to the cushioned seat she smoothed the lace tablecloth with her hands. Miriam leaned forward and closed her eyes, breathing deep to drink in the delicious aromas.

She had spent hours lovingly preparing: adding various spices, marinading  and simmering, the anticipation of the first bite building over the day, until it was unbearable to wait any longer.

At last it was ready:

The perfect meal.

With a delicate grip she lifted her fork and scooped up her first bite, pinky standing straight up in the air. Miriam brought the fork slowly up to her parted lips, when suddenly she felt something brush her legs. She dropped the fork back to the plate with a sigh.

"Oh, Jeepers Creepers! Sorry, darling. Mummy forgot your dinner. Come on."

She pushed back her chair and padded back to the kitchen, the black cat trotting beside her. He rubbed himself against her and lifted up onto his hind legs. He rested his front paws on the cupboard in front of him as she took the tin of cat food from the fridge. She scraped the rest of the contents into his bowl. She set the bowl on the floor and stroked his soft fur as he devoured his food.

"There you go, puss. A special meal for you and a special meal for me. Good boy, Jeepers." She beamed down at him, then left him to finish his meal in peace.

She hurried herself back to sit down, letting out a soft Ahh!

She picked up her fork again, but before she could bring it to her mouth, loud rock music blasted through her wall from the apartment next door, drowning out her piano.

She slammed the fork down in frustration, banging it against the plate.

This was the last straw!

Her new neighbours always played their tunes at the most inconvenient hours and she had never said anything, but there was no way they were going to ruin this meal for her.

Not today!

Miriam marched straight to her front door and down the hall to the culprit's abode. She pounded a few times with her fist, then stood with her hands on her hips, waiting. The music behind the door faded and footsteps approached.

A young man of about twenty appeared, fresh-faced and reeking of aftershave. "Hello?" he asked, confused.

"I'm your next door neighbour. Your neighbour who appreciates her peace and quiet!" Miriam chided.

"Oh...I..."

"Please turn it down!"

"Ok! Chill, lady. I was just gearing up for a night out, that's all. It wasn't gonna be for long."

Miriam harrumphed and was about to snap something back, when the door was closed in her face. The music was turned back up, but not quite at the same volume.

It was bearable.

For a moment Miriam stared at the closed door, then swiveled on her slippered heels and returned to her own apartment. She went straight to her fridge and picked up the marker that swung from a string beside the whiteboard stuck on the front.

At the bottom of the list of names she wrote the words: New neighbour! and snapped the cap of the marker back on with a click.

Miriam dropped the pen and stalked back to the table. She plonked herself down on the seat, her face flushed with anger. She closed her eyes, taking some deep breaths to calm herself.

When she was tranquil once more, she gazed at her plate, and a smile returned to her face.

"Now, let's try this again!" she said to the empty room around her.

Her hand was almost shaking as she once again lifted her fork and finally, finally took that first bite, her eyes closing with the ecstasy.

After a few chews, Miriam's fork banged back down on the plate and her eyes jerked open. She sighed in resigned disappointment.

Salt. She never added enough salt when she cooked human flesh.

Author's Note: Ok, there it is-my first story ever published online. Please feel free to comment- criticisms, witticisms, whatever you like.