It was a strange obsession to have, especially as the only person, no, creature, that could possibly relate was a fictional bear called Paddington and he’d only expressed desire for it between slices of bread, whereas she was having it with everything and was astounded at how good it tasted all the time.
Jill was thinking this as she smeared marmalade on her Weetabix and ate it like a cracker. Oh my word, she thought. This is delicious. Washed down with the finest tea.
She wasn’t pregnant so she couldn’t put it down to a picky passenger. But her compulsion to eat marmalade at every meal was an obstacle between her and Patrick.
He chose that moment to come in and grimaced as she bit with undisguised delight into her wheat biscuit.
“I think this has gone far enough, don’t you, Jill?” he jibed, facing her, hands on his hips like a stern schoolmaster.
Jill’s taste buds were aflame with the sharpness of Seville and she felt vehemently that it had not gone far enough at all. In fact, to the contrary: it needed to continue into perpetuity. The pleasure that she derived from this was unlike anything she had ever experienced. Ever.
She took the time and saliva needed to eat a dry Weetabix with marmalade topping to remain silent.
Patrick glared at her, waiting, as she chewed away in front of him. She could see with each movement of her jaw a mirrored tightening in his, further shown in the redness of his complexion as he tried unsuccessfully to contain his anger.
She reached for her tea to wash her mouth out before answering, as she was a little claggy and wanted to ensure she was heard clearly, when Patrick decided to explode.
“That’s it, Jill! I have been very patient with you and this…fad, but it is not a joke anymore! Either you stop it or I’m going!”
He was asking her to choose?
Slowly, she looked at her breakfast. Then, at Patrick.
“My God!” he cried. “You’re thinking about it?”
Finally, she reached for the marmalade-covered Weetabix, her hair moving slightly as Patrick turned and left, slamming the door as he did.
***
This microfiction was first published on Vocal (and subsequently on Medium) as part of a writing challenge I completed in 2024, to write a story of 366 words or less every day. I thought I’d share it here too.
Vocal: https://vocal.media/fiction/marmalade
Medium: https://medium.com/@scuffedgranny/marmalade-85f46a2a9d61
Scuffed Granny 