Marcel left the door open, so I followed him through to the other side. A silver intaglio serving plate decorated with pineapples and twisting vine leaves greeted me upon arrival. A dozen freshly baked Madeleines set me drooling; my fingers quivering at the touch, deep spongy cake texture begging to be dunked. Sadly, the lime blossom tea—ice cold. [after Proust] (59 words) Published in Bright Flash Literary Review - November 8, 2020
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