tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8183662.post109483051084558794..comments2023-06-13T21:46:20.222+01:00Comments on A few words: Candles on the table: short storyUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8183662.post-1099732546489353582004-11-06T09:15:00.000+00:002004-11-06T09:15:00.000+00:00Chapter 2 v3
A week later Stephen was driving hom...Chapter 2 v3<br /><br />A week later Stephen was driving home. As usual he glanced into "Laura's" window. She was laying out the cutlery, absorbed in her domestic ritual. He noticed the bruise on her cheek, spreading across her nose. The bruise was purple, with green edges, making it look rather like an aubergine. <br /><br />As he drove home he mused gently about cooking aubergines. Somehow, as marvellous as they look before cooking, they never really live up to that initial glossy plumpness. All this patting with salt, and mimsying around with tea towels, to draw the bitterness - why don't people accept that aubergines just taste nasty and stop trying to eat them? On the other hand, as part of a ratatouille, they certainly work quite well, once they've lost all structure and degenerated into a smoky mush. Perhaps he would write to the editor of The Times, proposing that aubergine should no longer be fried, or indeed served in any form in which it was still recognisable.<br /><br />The Times did not publish his letter, which had taken two evenings to perfect. From that day on his frustrations increased markedly, and his blood pressure rose steadily. In later years his niece cruelly remarked that with his purple face and bitter temperament, he should be called Uncle Eggplant.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8183662.post-1098990127818829922004-10-28T20:02:00.000+01:002004-10-28T20:02:00.000+01:00If the story had a moral, it would be, to quote Dy...If the story had a moral, it would be, to quote Dylan's Ballad of Frankie Lee and Judas Priest: <br /><br />The moral of this story, the moral of this song<br />Is simply that one should never be where one does not belong<br />So when you see your neighbour carryin' somethin', help him with his load<br />And don't go mistaking Paradise for that home across the road.<br /><br />Which is pretty close to that you've suggested!Martin Locockhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17198668398629742974noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8183662.post-1098777226603200182004-10-26T08:53:00.000+01:002004-10-26T08:53:00.000+01:00Chapter 2 v2
Portrait of the Archaeologist as a Y...Chapter 2 v2<br /><br />Portrait of the Archaeologist as a Young Man<br /><br />The next evening Martin, whoops, Stephen was driving home. As usual he glanced into "Laura's" window. As usual, she was laying the table. She was wearing sunglasses, an unexpected sight in a Welsh dining room in winter, but after a moment's thought he realised why she was wearing them. The Meerschaum pipe she was smoking was perhaps harder to explain.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8183662.post-1098527967448840762004-10-23T11:39:00.000+01:002004-10-23T11:39:00.000+01:00Chapter 2 v1
The next evening Stephen was driving...Chapter 2 v1<br /><br />The next evening Stephen was driving home. As usual he glanced into "Laura's" window. There was no sign of her, or her daughter, and one of the candlesticks was missing.<br /><br />Fearing the worst, he signalled left, and pulled over.<br /><br />In his haste to cross the road he did not look carefully, and was wiped out by a Sainsbury's lorry bearing a consignment of deep frozen chicken nuggets to Abergavenny.<br /><br />The moral of this story is: nosey parkers need to keep their eyes open all the time.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com