Stapleya Fitz's Short Story

As the two dripping refuges began to warm up, Meliza offered the central altar as a bed to her, as it was the traditional place for the welcoming of new-comers, she told. Not only finding it odd, Audette also found it cold and hard. Her guide had passed her a drink of something she poured from a jug at the chapel’s decorative shrine, the liquid was introduced to her as Witch-tea. Once again, odd, but it had a soothing effect.

She describes this peculiar strategy, as seen in the Ladies’ Day luncheon, “While we were standing up behind our chairs listening to the welcome speech, I had bowed my head and secretly eyed the position of the bowls of caviar” (Plath 26). Esther demonstrates substantial control when dealing with food, a control that is indubitably absent in her own life.

The inn keeper's parlor was the best in town, they told her. His wife was wearing a heavy dress, adorned with lace and a massive broach that she raised a plump hand to touch, as if to be certain it was still there. They spoke of the massive rug, bought from Paris, and the finely crafted furniture they all sat upon. The preacher listened quietly, smiling as though their vanity wasn't a sin, while Mrs. Hartford eyed the dress with longing. Della thought that the dress was tasteless. The lace was poorly made, and the line of the bodice wasn't flattering. The fabric was an odd shade between blue and green, and the woman inside it was far less appealing. She didn't bother to mention that her own parlor had been filled with crystal, and priceless art her father had collected around the world. She didn't mention that her toys had cost more than Mrs. Johnson's gowns, or that she was mispronouncing the tea they'd been served. Not to be kind, not to be deceptive, but because did not matter anymore. Nothing mattered anymore. She'd given up that life to marry Ben, given up her family, given up her home and her gowns and her education.

Already hearing the Mr.Beaufort raising his voice at Mrs.Struthers asking where the Countess was, Ellen Olenska knocked on the door with compunction. Mrs.Struthers answered the door and was already slightly intoxicated. Mrs.Struthers pushed her in and Ellen was immediately engulfed by the grandeur of Mrs.Struthers’ party. Massive chandeliers hung low from the ceiling, live music surrounded the house, and luxurious food was being enjoyed by Mrs.Struther’s party guests: the Duke and Mr.Beaufort. They offered her a seat and she declined, but Mr.Beaufort was importunate, and so she sat. After Mrs.Struthers’ servants gave Ellen her elegant food and a drink, they immediately plunged into conversation about the social codes and customs of this “close-minded”

Keys, having virtually no reason for emotional attachment, are mentioned in line 5 with a tone of acceptance that, “Yes, it is okay to lose keys.” Although vital to the penetration of a lock, keys are such a generic object that they can be easily replaced and, aside from the inability to open that door, will not be missed for long. Lines 2 and 3 state that “so many things seem filled with the intent

Along with the decor, the superior quality of food and drink plays a prominent role in the idea of courtesy because the finest provisions are generally reserved for special occasions. The narrator describes “[g]ood beer and bright wine” (129) as standard beverages for the event. Likewise, guests feasted on “dainties . . . [and] dishes rare” (121) served in elegant fashion. The superb caliber of the fare reflects a conscious effort to favor guests in gracious style.

the lock that fits the key. Jonathan Safran Foer, the author of this book, clearly demonstrates the

Young ladies and gentlemen began to dance and swirl around the center of the ball room while Karolina and her friend were approached by two distinguished ladies. They made their introductions and inquired about Karolina, for they recognized Anna and her husband. They observed Karolina’s simple hairstyle and lack of jewelry. Anna proudly explained to them she was a friend from the Grand Duchy of Baden and described the wedding of Princess Marie both attended back in Mannheim. The two women were suitably impressed as Anna described the members of royalty they had seen. After they left, Anna squeezed Karolina’s hand and mouthed the words “Thank you” to her as other women slowly came up to both them.

The attendance included over ten Denizens of all ranks and groups, there they conversed and took joy in the edible delights provided by Master Geoffry. To display his understanding of courtesy and gallantry, ser Brynden was the gentleman of the evening as he encouraged dancing. Asking more than one woman to honor him on the floor using the skills in which he learned through the courtly dance classes. The rest of the evening involved small games and a raffle sponsored by Mistress Josie. As the evening came end the mistress took the time out to thank each person for

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.

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.

I was starting to worry, it is getting dark out.” She told me kissing my forehead. “Now come help me with dinner.’ Taking my hand and dragging me away, but not before I could see the smugness of my brother’s face. I sent him a glare before making it into the kitchen. The rest of the night went on, and rather like other nights when we’ve been together. We sat down, ate, and talked. Nothing particularly special about the rest of that night, excepting George’s visit. Still though, this was one of the few occasions we could actually all come together. At least one that was enjoyable. The next morning was one I was genuinely looking forward to. But when I woke up hearing Mum calling me. So I had gotten dressed, in a skirt this time, in an effort to silence her. I left my room expecting to see my mother making breakfast. But instead seeing two officers of sorts, waiting at the open door. With my mother and father standing in front of

I thought what a wonderful way to tell a story” (Mujica 38). The reader is often present in the kitchen with Esquivel when she writes about her past experiences in the kitchen.

The party was at its fullest holler the moment Lucy Ames stepped into the house. The lurid sound of people bellowing filled the auricles of her ears, drowning every perspective of leaving as her best friend’s hand shot out, gripping her own as she dragged them forward. The gut-wrenching sight of two teenagers making out on the sofa awakened the bubbling of her stomach, threatening to gush out of her mouth if she did not look away any sooner.

It wasn’t hard to lose my concentration despite the company. Out of all the fabulous restaurants I have been to, Alinea always elated me the most. Coming here was better than contemplating a Raphael or The Potatoes Eaters; pure untainted pleasure. In the midst of my emotional climax, I felt her warm hand's gentle touch, and she had my hearts attention.