The Yellow Bowl

Delilah bought the ugly bowl because Ash tried so hard not to tell her it was ugly.

He stood beside the market stall with his hands in his pockets, watching her turn it toward the light. The glaze was a disagreeable yellow. Somebody had painted four leaves around the rim, none attached to a convincing stem.

“You think I should put it down,” she said.

“I think you should buy something you like.”

“An evasive answer.”

“I’ve been practising.”

She put the bowl back. “Tell me.”

“It looks as if it has received disappointing news.”

She laughed so hard the stallholder looked up from his newspaper. Ash’s expression broke. It had been worth making him say it simply to see the pleasure arrive afterwards.

“I’ll take it,” she told the stallholder.

“You don’t have to prove anything,” Ash said.

“I want to have breakfast out of something that looks worse…