Mashed POTATOES
She looked up into his deep blue eyes, and the feeling hit her like a bolt of lightning. Her heart raced. This was the man she had been looking for all her life.
Marnie snapped the book shut. ‘Why is finding love always so dramatic in novels?’ she thought. ‘How can the heroines possibly know at first glance that this is the man for them?’
She went to the kitchen and put on the kettle, staring at her distorted reflection on the shiny surface. At 35, she looked reasonably attractive, with her heart-shaped, freckled face and mop of curly brown hair.
As Marnie made a cup of tea, her thoughts circled back to her love life. Over the years, she’d had her fair share of romance, but she had never experienced the fireworks so common in fiction. Her relationships were always of the slow-burn variety – no drama, no excitement, just two humans getting to know each other over time and finding that life was better shared.
Her phone beeped with a text from John, the man she’d been seeing for the past six months. Want to go to Mum’s for dinner tonight? I can pick you up at 7pm.
Sure. See you later, she replied, adding two kisses to her message. What a kind, lovely man John was. ‘Why don’t I experience butterflies when I see him?’ she thought. ‘Where is the mad desire the books always speak of?’
‘Why don’t I experience butterflies?’
Two hours later, the doorbell rang and Marnie welcomed John into her flat. He stood in
