Afternoon Tea

Well, here we are at Sunday again. Time for Alistair’s Sunday Photo Fiction. A 100 – 200 word weekly flash fiction prompt based on the photo provided. Follow the link and have a go and read the others who have been drawn into his web of addiction…

The Mangle

By mid-afternoon there was already a steady stream. Business was brisk. The four little tables set by the window were all taken. Each laden with china cups and saucers and silver stands overflowing with delicate fancies and tiny crustless sandwiches, cut finger thin.

Jane watched from the back.  An old lady sat in the corner, a beautiful diamond and ruby set brooch pinned to her cashmere shawl. Expensive tastes, Jane thought. She watched the old dear as she lifted up a sandwich, salivating at the smoothly layered pâté spread between the slices of bread. The tip of her tongue snaked a trail of liquid anticipation across a pair of thin lips and Jane couldn’t stop herself from smirking.

Ten minutes later, the diners were so busy devouring the savoury perfection that nobody noticed the old lady’s chair swiftly slide behind the screen then return, empty, with nothing out of place. Whilst in the basement Jane got to work quickly.  The heavy hammer and saw making swift work of her newest carcass. An hour later the pâté mixture was ready for the mangle. The key was in the smoothness of the mixture. Popping the diamond and ruby brooch in her apron pocket, Jane smiled. Grandma’s secret recipe was working its magic again.

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