Annabelle
Monday, she’s vegan. Cumin, mushrooms, bell peppers, garlic; seething on the hob. “Come in, Sweet Pea,” she says. “Shakshuka, without the eggs. Look how well I’m doing. Leaner, less meaner, lighter and brighter” Super, I tell her. Good on you. Well done. Tuesday, red Leicester on sourdough. Slaw. Salt. Horseradish mayonnaise. Broccoli raw. This is, I ask? She winks; rubs my cheek. “I’m lacto-ovo vegetarian,” she explains. “Today, anyway. Also, lapsed Presbyterian. Don’t judge me, Treacle. I’m doing my best.” Wednesday, cod à la Grenobloise, on crushed Jersey Royals. She’s pescatarian. “It turns out!” She’s as surprised as anyone here. When did this happen? She edges quite near. “I had a need,” she snaps. “Fish don’t bleed.” She squeezes my shoulder; strokes my hair. “Cut me some slack, Pumpkin. Don’t be annoyed.” I’m saddened, I pique. Frankly, not overjoyed. Thursday, she barks, “Get me steak!” Oh come on, I exasperate. “Just the meat,” she insists. “The redder the better. Five seconds each side on a griddle. Lob it on the table.” The table? “Baby Cakes, don’t push me. Don’t give me a label.” Oh please, I impore, fetching a plate. Not back to carnivore? She starts to chew down. Grips both my hands. Mouth oozes gore. “Yes!” she blurts. “Completely full bore. Not proud. Not ashamed. I am what I am!” Friday. Dark apprehension. She stands in the kitchen, with a knife, at the counter. Ground peppercorns. Onions. Unbearable tension. “Hush little Sausage.” She’s stroking my front. What do you want? “You,” she croons. Typically blunt. I shiver. Sink to my knees. Oh no. Oh no. Oh please Annabelle! “That’s right,” she exults. “I’m actually cannibal! Not sure I can eat until someone has died. Sorry, sweet Dumpling. Not sorry. I tried.”
Mark Barlex - [email protected] - began writing in 2021. His stories have appeared in Bandit Fiction, Flash Fiction North, Your Fire Magazine, Scribble, Coalition Works, Litmora, and Roi Fainéant, and performed at Liars’ League events in London. He was shortlisted for the Bath Flash Fiction Award and was runner-up in the Missouri Review Jeffery E Smith Editors’ Prize.
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