This is a scene from a story I’m working on. It takes place in Egypt, God save the mark, and the two people are sitting in a plain, dockside tavern and discussing something very serious over a lunch of bread and, perhaps, some fish:
“There is that.” Intef reached for the jar of beer. “I can send troops over tomorrow, but it will be in a rush.”
Seti frowned and sat back, absently chasing sesame seeds with a fingertip. “That might be a good thing,” he said after he licked the seeds off. “As soon as it can be arranged at any rate. Space is limited there – best to set up an encampment.”
“That’s what I am afraid of.” He looked for more seeds and then shrugged. “And that is why I am uneasy.” He hooked the gold pendant from beneath his tunic, slipped it over his head, took the ring from the cord and handed it to Intef. “If I need the forces at once I will send to you. This ring is the token I will use. It does not matter who carries it: the request will be coming straight from me.”
They could easily be sitting in McDonald’s chasing sesame seeds across their plates.
There is not a lot that sesame can’t improve in any form. (Toasted) sesame oil adds a lot of flavor, sprinkle a handful in a dish and it adds looks and taste:
I’m going to have a toasted sesame bagel for breakfast, and I’m going to chase all the seeds.