Fragment #27 – Easter dinner

I sit on my chair, and start smelling the delicious dinner Granny cooked for us on this Easter week-end. Veal is on the table, already cut by Grandfather, waiting for our forks to grab some piece of flesh from it. I look at it with quite big eyes. Jonathan’s hand slither under the table to fondle my right leg. I answer with a smile. Granny asks Jon what he wants to eat. He answers back he wants a bit of everything. He smiles at her. She smiles back at him.
As every one has his plate full, we start to eat with consideration. All is silent. I start to think about Christ resuscitated. Loving soul, suffering body. His blood shed on humanity. I shiver.
This is my flesh. His flesh is ours; my flesh is part of His.
I fondle my napkin, unfold it on my knees. I touch my knife, grab it, feel its vibrations on the meat, the sound it makes when it touches the plate and grates it. I can feel the tenderness of the veal, and as the meat opens, it exhales a scent that makes my nostrils thrill. I get a piece of meat, bring it all the way to my mouth, open it wide and engulf this dance of odours and taste, make it play with my tongue. I chew every bit of it, feeling the sour and the bitter, and then swallow it.
Some time later, I’m in my room, next to Jon, caressing his back while thinking about something else. Granny calls for us from downstairs. She has hidden chocolate eggs in the house. She can be such a child sometime. Well, I am too!
And I start looking for the eggs with Jon.