A Light Repast
Constanzia Moralez y de Zamora
Once upon a time, a long time ago, when living in shared accommodation was the norm for my income, I lived with two people. Don't get me wrong, these people remain two of my favourite people and I have rather fond memories of one particular mischievous person. Please allow me to share this experience with you.
We had a pet chook. She lived in a wire cage downstairs and we fed her and fed her and fed her. She was a lovely fat chook. Her name was Repast. She lived downstairs for quite some time but I don't think she was aware of her destiny. I wasn't exactly quite aware of her destiny either. (Though you'd think with a name like "Repast" that I might have had a slight hint).
Just to let you know, I'm not an early morning person. I'm not a morning person full stop. I can only get going after at least one decent coffee. This particular morning I made myself a coffee, reached into the fridge for the milk. I stared into the fridge, hand on the milk to see Repast staring fair into my face with a flower stuck in her mouth. I shut the door. Was I dreaming? I opened the door. Nope, she was still there. Repast had been cooked, stuffed and her feathers remounted. Her eyes were glazy and somehow she had a smirk on her face. I was shocked and slightly horrified. It wasn't everyday that you saw the pet chook displayed for eating in your fridge. I slammed the door of the fridge, screamed and yelled, "Ulfgar!"