Purple Prose

(Week #1 - A is for auberine and abominable)

Melinda was pleased to see that the produce section of the Giant was well stocked. She picked her way down the aisle, filling her basket with a head of Romaine, a cluster of tomatoes, three yellow onions, and a medium eggplant. She turned back for a handful of Granny Smiths. She would bake a pie; it was cold out and the smell of pie in the oven would impress Patrick. She hoped, anyway. That and a bowlful of ratatouille. But maybe he was a meat-and-potatoes man? She tried to remember what she’d seen him eating for lunch at his desk: hoagies, chips, Snickers. She sighed. She could always wear something sexy, which would short-circuit any complaints about her menu.
She was expecting him at seven o’clock, and it was four now. They planned to eat first, then watch an old episode or two of Doctor Who. She was astonished to find someone else who loved the show as much as she did, someone who not only worked in the same office, but in a cubicle on the same floor. His calendar, with stills from the show, caught her eye several weeks ago when she passed by on her way to a department meeting. Patrick had also decorated his workspace with a two-foot-high replica of the blue police box that served as the Doctor’s vehicle through space and time.
Danny, her old boyfriend, had laughed at her obsession and refused to watch the show with her. He hated science fiction – whether in movies or books – and they hadn’t lasted long as a couple.
At the checkout, the clerk wrinkled her nose at the eggplant. “I’ll eat salad, but I draw the line at purple food.” She slipped the vegetables into a plastic bag, and Melinda swiped her debit card through the reader.
“It’s not purple through and through, you know.” Melinda was amused. The clerk looked all of seventeen, and her fingernails were the same violet shade.
“Oh, I know, I know. But the thought of actually taking a bite of it...” She shuddered. “Abominable.”