The meat arrived like a ritual, skewers hanging over glowing coals as if time itself had been trapped and roasted.

Daniel stared, phone in hand, unsure whether to document or participate. Around him, conversations rose and fell in unfamiliar rhythms, laughter punctuated by the clink of glasses. Across the table, a woman watched him, amused, as he hesitated.

“It’s better when you stop observing,” she said. He nodded, setting the phone down. The first bite was smoky, rich, undeniable. By the time the coals dimmed, Daniel realized he hadn’t taken a single photo.

And he didn’t regret it at all.

(100 words)

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Written for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ Friday Fictioneers prompt. Photo credit: David Stewart.