#pronat

prosciutto nat just does have a certain flavour. slick old-fashioned gangster and his them fatale spouse. they meet in a smoky jazz bar where i’m singing and he’s smoking and our eyes meet. he has lipstick marks on his collar when he’s called into a mission. he’s a gentleman with an icy polite demeanour and a silky smooth voice. i’m a little bit naive but i wear a corset and stockings and flirt with him and pour him his whiskey when he gets home and perch on his lap whilst he listens to old jazz records and light his cigarette for him. the vibe is so clear in my mind.

oh to be a 40s singer in a smoke-filled nightclub perched on a piano in a low-cut black dress and stockings with a line of glasses of whisky men have bought me that i will not drink, singing old-fashioned standards, only for my eyes to meet prosciutto’s across the room and feel as though my life has been altered in an instant . . .

I baked a cake yesterday and as I decorated it I thought about just wearing a cute apron in the kitchen as my husband came back from work... gave me a kiss on the cheek... ended up railing me over a kitchen counter u know how it is