Short Story

After meeting her husband, LJ, Arline’s delicious cooking prompted her husband to suggest that they deliver the food to the shut-in in the community. This act was much appreciated by those who would not have received a home cook meal. Soon after her wares were well sought after. Many requested her to prepare

After a long Thursday of work on the ranch the hard working men packed into the dining hall. Everyone rushed through the lineup to eat first and instantly the sound of growling stomachs and clinking forks and knifes filled the dining room that was silent moments ago. George, Slim, Lennie, Candy and Carlson in their dirty work wear an scuffed boots sat around an old wood dining room table that was aged with scratches and cuts from the many men that had worked at the ranch before the five men that sat around the table today. The men chowed down on roast beef with gravy and garlic mashed potatoes. Lennie was thrilled as he ate his mountain of potatoes. Gravy spilled down the edge of old Candy’s lips. “Jesus Candy do you have any table manners?” Carlson asked with frustration in his deep voice.

She starts to walk on the path of getting to work. Barely awake and aware of her surroundings. As she continues to head to work she starts immediately regretting her life and choices. She hears the sounds of the street and the workers working. She sees the people that were at her wedding. They were exhausted and lacked tons of enthusiasm. They were all drained and out of spirit. She even noticed little Stanislovas who was ill from his act of overeating sausages and sarsaparilla. He is standing at his lard machine, rocking unsteadily, and slightly closing his

Up until recently the small, fine unit that was their marriage had been predictable. Now disrupted by erratic behaviour, shifting gazes and finally exotic dinners of all things. Her unpredictability upset him, and as he ate the spices stung his tongue. He ground his food cruelly to fine shreds and swallowed forcefully, and the tartness of his rage clung to his palette and tasted an unpleasing aftertaste.

“Fräulein Kühn. Thank you for your assistance.” Herr Franke stood and pointed to the table with urgency. “Fräulein Frederickson, please place the dish on the table, you may both leave.” I bowed my head in acknowledgement and moved to walk out quickly when Herr Ulbricht reached for my arm to stop me. This surprised all who were present.

“March by regiments, move out!” The Black Prince shouted. He jumped from the stage looking disgusted at the outcome. His sister had gotten the better of him.

There was a large roast of some kind on the table, a cold half-circle of cornbread, and a simmering pot of beans sitting on a folded towel in the center of the table. Charlotte knew good manners required that she wait for the others to return, but her growling stomach wouldn’t let her. Cicely started to break off some bread and Charlotte stood, looking for a knife. Carefully she cut the big half circle into eight wedges and put one slice on each of their plates. She repeated the process to slice a sliver of meat for each of them. Cicely reached over to spoon a huge pile of beans over both things on her plate and sat back

She awoke with great discomfort; the huger pains impaired her, and fogged her mental clarity, but she persevered, and crawled out of the neatly kept bed. It was early in the morning and no one was awake, there was no food on the table, and no servants guarding the doors, so Proserpina made her way to the front of the palace. Each step she took was carefully calculated, for the floors creaked. She arrived at the black wooden doors, still impaired from hunger, and the motionless fog that clouded her mind remained, she clasped the handle of the wooden doors, feeling the carved intricacies, and pulled only slightly. Just then, a hand reached from the dim, and somber atmosphere. The darkened room shadowed everything except the pair of hands that gripped the refulgent, pearl shaped seeds. The sweet smell of the berries was enticing, and her mouth began to water. Emaciated, and weak; Proserpina took the berries and ate. Of all the horrid possibilities she had thought of, this was among the worst. She was taken advantage of in her moment of

Everyone ate, talking to the human owners with the causality they’d speak to their own kind. They spoke of work and how the family was. Then, Undyne arrives back, blood spattered on her coat. She’d wrap her arm around Alphys, her girlfriend.

As he came into sight, Noelle's fingers tightened on her father's shoulder and she leaned forward, peering as if that might cut the yards between them to mere feet that she might better see his face. Misinterpreting her gesture, Noelle's father, King Louis, reached up and patted the top of her hand reassuringly. "Still yourself, Noelle. There are many guards between us and him and he poses danger only by his existence and his symbolism, not by sword and lance." Her father's fingers were fat with indulgence, flesh bulging around the many rings he wore, and if the fashion at court ran to thick beards it was only because Louis wore one to hide his chins. The South was so rich compared to the stark yet beautiful North and its prosperity gave rise to many vices such as the gluttony of her father and the feeling of decadence in the Court that had in part fostered the revolt. Hard men, lean fighting men who daily pitted themselves

''Not we, Cisco. Me. I need to do this alone'' Instantly answered back the speedster, without hesitation. His answer wasn’t harsh, but it was firm and definitive.

“No, but I could forgive you your mistake. You’re here because you didn’t die. You’ve spent the last several hours being healed, true, but that was simply to get you mobile as soon as possible. By the time we’d found you after your failure to report for transplant, you’d already grown most of a new liver. It had, admittedly, been several days that you’d lain on the floor, so I had you brought here so I could study you.” Lung-Tze cocked his ancient, wrinkly head to one side. “You’re not following, are you? Let me condense the story.

Jewel drummed her fingers on the white tablecloth. Where was Alexander? The clink of dishes gathered from empty tables pervaded the dining area. He should have been here an hour ago. The eggs over easy and wheat toast, intended for him, sat cold on the other side of the table.

As he walked around the small kitchen he found a chef’s knife. He would have to clean it after but it would have to do. At the other end of the kitchen, an arched wall separated him from the dining room. Nancy sat with her back to him. He gripped the knife tighter, tiptoeing forward, and taking quiet, shallow breaths.

She skipped the stairs and went around the side of the palace and avoided all windows to try and not be seen by any guards. Carefully she slid open the one window that wasn’t guarded, her room, and placed one leg in after another and crept back into her large room. She had instead when she was little to have no guards in her room, for she felt it was the one place she wanted to be private, after many days of thought the king and queen finally caved.