6:40 p.m. - 2004-08-01

Pot Luck

I have been invited to a literary potluck today, hosted by Firemind. It was my choice to bring dessert - a homemade apple pie, but due to a migraine that has kept me to my bed for the last 3 days I have not had to time to collect the proper ingredients.

I can see the pie cooling in the kitchen window. The light breeze plays fickle with the steam that wisps its way upward. Yet the smell beckons me towards it, it�s juices still bubbling up over the flaky edge. Droplets of butter mixed with spices and apple nectar oozing up through the holes so lovingly cut into the crust. Oh, yes . . .

Yet � dare I snatch it from the neighbours house? All to aid a potluck at Firemind�s?