By Chef JRHEvilInc/Joel R Hunt
//This is the first of a series. Click here for part two.
“Mum, don’t worry about it. It’s just a splash, she won’t care.”
Mum doesn’t listen, already whipping the cloth off of the table and folding it over her arm.
“No, no, I want everything to be perfect,” she says, running a finger over the table to make sure the stain hasn’t gone down to the wood, “She deserves a real family meal, something nice. She doesn’t want to come home to a… a… warzone!”
“Good choice of words,” mutters my brother with a smirk. Mum shoots him a look, then turns to me.
“Fetch the fresh tablecloth, would you? It’s in the linen closet.” Continue reading “The First Parents”
By Chef Unxmaal
//Some parts of the beginning have been cut down, resulting in a shorter total run length than the original.
I don’t feel like I’m a nosy person. No more nosy than the next guy. I just have what my Ma would call an unhealthy amount of curiosity. I was the kid who climbed to the top of the big oak, just to see what was in the crows’ nest. I was the kid who dug a hole in the backyard so deep that I hit groundwater because I was convinced there was a cave under our house, and I wanted to see it. To see.
I never felt like a scholar. In high school, I kept my head down and did enough to get by, pulling off B’s and a few C’s. I wasn’t interested in learning, because learning wasn’t interesting. Uni was different. I took mainly core classes, math-English-history-science, but they were fascinating. For one thing, nobody cared if I showed up or not. It was entirely up to me to succeed, so I did.
In exchange for my education, I worked security and did some light maintenance duties. Maintenance was a no-brainer. I’ve always been handy, and most of the fix-it jobs were the type that could be solved with a liberal application of WD-40, or elbow grease, or both. Security was a different story. Security gave me super powers. Continue reading “The Stairs and the Doorway”