The Last Supper
If she took another bite, she would be ill. American excess. Obscene. She smiled and thanked her hostess for the lovely meal.
"I'm glad you enjoyed it. The Senator does love to put on a show for you Ambassadors. I guess you don't have a holiday like Thanksgiving in, uh, in your country?"
She shook her head. Stupid cow doesn't even know where I'm from. She looked at the Congressmen and their wives seated around the table. Corpses in waiting. "I brought something special for dessert," she said, smiling brightly. "It is, how you say, to die for."
More Friday Fiction:
Jimmie
Darleen
Smitty
BigGator5
No comments:
Post a Comment