A Knack For It
Mark lifted the glass and took a slow sip, letting the acridness of the Cabernet wash over him. Despite his best efforts to train his palate, he never detected oak, cedar or any other woody flavor. Most fruity notes eluded him as well. He only tasted grapes, red and delicious, sometimes a deep purple, coupled with that always present acidity that melted his heart and warmed his soul. He could almost feel his teeth and lips darkening with each drink.
Across the table, Kathy closed her eyes as she savored the last drops from her stemless glass. Pretentious to the last, she could never say no to any trend, especially when it came to wine. It was one of her many talents.
He could admit he liked the look of the glasses. In the right light, with the proper amount of alcohol in his blood, his brain, they seemed to shimmer. Unfortunately, they were difficult to pick up off the table, and too many times he’d almost spilled, had spilled his wine, which always felt like such a waste.
He looked at the empty bottle. The estate house etched on the label carried some fancy French name he couldn’t pronounce. Mark knew she’d laugh if he tried.
“This particular winery is a few kilometers south of Bordeaux. I’ve been there. It sits on a raised knoll, and the curve of the vine covered landscape faces the morning light. The grapes are sun kissed to life,” she said, her voice a low, lingering, almost erotic hum, and he couldn’t help but wish he were as lucky as the fruit.
If I interviewed one of your friends or family, what would they say were your talents?
I have a knack for never answering a yes or no question without offering a long winded, unnecessary explanation.
I also adore wine. What about you? I also do not have the knack for tasting notes, but can tell the difference between certain styles of wine. I prefer red, dislike white.