Sometimes a great sibling

My older sister had her twenty-second birthday, and so i called he tonight to chat. I told her about the time period for something I was writing, and she started to list off all these props I could mention. What a great resource: thanks, sis.


The funeral catering struck Duncan as odd: A Tupperware bowl full of saffron rice, topped with a Vesta meal of shrimp that had not had quite enough water added while cooking, and was rather crunchy; slices of malt loaf with butter; three large plates of Mister Kipling’s Iced fancies in the full glory of their artificial colors; a tray of jam tarts that had been cooked at too high a temperature, and now had the consistency of strawberry flavored chewing gum gobbets in paper cups.

~This must be an Asian thing,~ he thought. However, after a moment of considering what his parents might serve at his funeral if he were to die suddenly during the next week, he changed his mind. ~Not a bad spread, for the spur of the moment.~



About Ian Whatley

Ian Whatley -- British born, bred, educated, and then deported. His fiction has been published in The Legendary, Lost and Found Times, 3S and so on and so on and...

Posted on November 7, 2010, in Ian W and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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