Pure silent delight

People talk too much sometimes. I frequently talk too much.

This evening, a moment of silence, of pure delight was witnessed with no sound.
The five of us, after a delicious onions and ginger quiche, were almost done with the dessert.
The bowl of melted chocolate was arriving to its end. All the fruit had already been dipped into its chocolate dream and mouths had gladly tasted those simple duets.
Ice cream was the last victim to fall before this devilishly tasty, dark, hot, gooey and sweet liquid.
Jazz in the kind of this great "Take Five" was playing from my bulky and trustworthy music player.
At some point, nobody said anything, we all just gazed somewhere, probably nowhere at all, while the spoon slowly but surely went back up, carrying some chocolated ice to one's patiently open mouth.

I wish I had more moments like those. Being somewhere and not really anywhere. Being with other people and enjoying it with all of them, but still able to appreciate that singular moment independent and selfishly.


n.-