E. Florian Gludovacz
“Where do you think you are going, pray tell?” asked Puck peevishly.
“I’m done and I’m leaving the fairy mound,” the young elf replied.
“You can’t leave! You’re an elf and you belong here, in the world of fairies!”
“I’m done dancing, singing, and cavorting! And I hate magic, too! I don’t want to participate in your antics any longer and there’s nothing you can do about it!”she snapped pugnaciously.
“But, what are you going to do? Where will you go?”
“I will make something of myself! I’ll live in the human world and I’m going to be a barista!
I swear, I am going to win the competition this year after having been runner-up in the Annual Cannibal Cook-off Competition three years running.
Admittedly, the booth to my left has some delicious chick tenders. Those women walking in to be butchered looked very succulent and juicy.
The cooks to my right have some literal baby-back ribs on offer. Those are always a favourite with the judges.
But I have a special dish this year. My shanks are smoked with applewood before braising. And they are very unique and absolutely limited long pig, because I am cooking my own legs!
The Reaper of Souls stood in silence, surveying all that lay before him, measuring and gauging weight and size with a practised eye. Some days were easy, some days much harder, but it all balanced out in the end.
This was his time, his place. He lost himself in the moment as he closed his all-seeing eyes and drank in the silence. Soon it would be over and the deed would be done. He relished the moment as he knelt down and in one swift, sure motion plucked the ripe tomato off the plant and popped it into his mouth.