Thursday, February 15, 2007

Yonge Line, first on, first to sit.

Caucasian woman, late 40s, wearing a puffy, green jacket with hood and a powder blue hand-knitted cap. She has an under bite, her lower lip protruding to expose her bottom row of teeth. Her book is encased in bright green fabric, patterned with gift boxes and red stars. Her placeholder is crocheted, long and doily-like.

Misery, Stephen King (Signet)

Page 107:

Annie lapsed into a moody silence, staring into the corner. She had become unplugged. It was the first time this had happened in some days, and he wondered uneasily if it meant she was slipping into the lower part of her cycle. If so, he had better batten down his hatches.

She stands in front of the pot, stirring through the bubbles, the room lit only by the dim, yellow fan light. Steam rises in her face, her cheeks perspiring. She rests her hand on the stovetop and finds it warm to the touch, calming. She turns down the burner heat and lets the stew simmer, scratching her ankle with the heel of her piggy slipper. She draws a deep breath and exhales loudly, plunging her hands deep into her housecoat pockets. She watches the stew as it settles into a steady roll, peppers, onions and carrots turning up over thick chunks of cubed beef.

She goes to the cupboard and pulls out the Bisquick, ripping open the top. It puffs in her face, and she giggles, wiping the mix from her apron. She doesn't feel like cleaning tonight. And this isn't how she imagined it ending. There is so much food to share. It's a shame he won't be here to try some. Oh, but if she doesn't do it tonight she'll dread the coming day. She puts the lid on the stew and turns the heat right down, heading into the bathroom with gloves and garbage bags, the tub filled with the stripped bones of her dead lover.

4 comments:

cinema said...

Wow.
This is like a perfectly-timed sucker punch. Amazing.

Julie Wilson said...

I think I've been influenced by too many Six Feet Under intros.

Glad you liked it!

The Chapatikid said...

You know, this is NOTHING like Roald Dahl's short story "Lamb to the Slaughter," and yet, when I read it, I was thinking of exactly the scene in the story where... oh but you'll have to read it to know!

Six Feet Under too? Lady! You need to come to one of our staff lunches and have a pop culture pow wow!

Julie Wilson said...

Thanks for sending me the link; that's a great story! (And now, of course, I'm hungry for lamb...)

You know, I thought his announcement was going to be that he had decided to kill himself...but that he'd see to it that she'd be taken care of, etc. I was almost disappointed... :)