Living Room Cafe

I baked the last five strips
of bacon in a shallow pan
at 375 degrees on a Friday
night as the month of
October came to a close.
While the sizzle and scent
crescendoed in the oven,
my cat lifted her nose in the
air to sniff the pork as it popped.

Twenty-three minutes later,
I read an article on the history
of American music with one
hand on my bacon sandwich and
one hand on the magazine,
my living room now a sort
of makeshift eatery, with all the
comforts of home and the smells
and sounds of a corner cafe.

© Amy E. Hall 2007

(crisp bacon sandwich)

crisp bacon sandwich
cold Coca-Cola Classic
quiet Friday night

© Amy E. Hall 2007