A painter stepped carefully across tumbled rocks to the very end of the jetty. She placed her easel on a flat table of rock.
She opened the menu:
Sea-splashed rocks stretching back to the shore. Glistening cubes of jello.
Blue ripples of water on the sheltered side of the jetty. Spatula-dabbed blueberry frosting.
The mast-filled marina. Toothpicks in marshmallows on a bright silver tray.
The lighthouse at the end of Moondown Point. A peppermint stick.
The clouds above a shoulder of mountain. Whipped cream.
The contours of Earth. Spooned chocolate pudding.
Nearby cottages. Gumdrops.
The beach. Gently rolled, sugary white fudge, with a mouthwatering variety of tasty sprinkles.
Umbrellas along the sand. Tempting lollipops.
Her eyes turned.
A rimless bowl of water. Only water . . . and formless light.
A long, deep, quenching drink of simple water.
She drank.
Short Stories by Richard 
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