Dinner at my house will be indulgent, decadent, belly achingly full from food, wine, laughter.
Dinner at my house will celebrate me, and you, and our minds, and our bodies, and all the beautiful, discounted miracles those bodies can do.
Dinner at my house will be bread with extra butter. It will be pasta with extra sauce. It will be cake –so much cake.
Dinner at my house will be with my best and brightest friends; the ones who hear me when I speak and respect me when I choose.
Dinner at my house will be served to the girl who ate alone in high school. The one who shoveled food into napkins and forced it down garbage disposals.
Dinner at my house will be served to the child who could not see how deserved she was of a seat at the table.
Danielle Meyer’s writing has previously appeared in Angles Literary Magazine and on the online writing community site, Write or Die Tribe, for which she served as a past contributor. She is a graduate of the E.W. Scripps School of Journalism at Ohio University and is currently working as a Senior Communications Associate for an IR and PR agency. She resides in New York City.
