It figures, I thought. First date and he brings me to this place. Karma, I guess. He asks me the usual questions. Family, work, leisure, pets? It all goes well. He’s a nice guy and says all the right stuff. My side of the conversation goes pretty well, too.
Then it starts. The flashback, the hot sauce, the choking,the paramedics. My mind hopelessly fixates on that awful night when my life started to spin and tumble into something I could no longer recognize.
I don’t even feel the hot tea splash on my legs as I stand up and run out the door.
photo credit: Marie Gail Stratford
Another submission to Friday Fictioneers, which you can explore at thie site: