Writing for Fun
May 2023
IFriend or Foe - Jenny Bowker
I am in mourning. I am bereft. Uttred, son of Uttred von Bambergen has gone to Valhalla. Bernard Cornwall has killed off my friend of many hours, reading and binge watching. I am in deep need of consolation.
Off to the kitchen, on with the kettle, drop coffee bag in cup (good things these: real coffee with convenience) and into the cupboard for a tasty treat. Mmm Rocky Road, the remains of a birth day cake. Those lovely shiny chocolate covered meringues, cherries, ginger, salted caramel lumps . . . goodness, my mouth is watering now. Pour the water in the cup and sit down with plate in hand and coffee nearby.
Well, at least Uttrid died with his sword in his hand. Such a handsome man, (teeth sinking into the crunchy cake) such a complicated life (mmm that was a lovely juicy cherry) and he never gave way to King Edward but served him and his family with honour (ohh a lovely chewy meringue) I expect I’ll have to search for another Bernard Cornwell book to read, I think I’ve read most. (sip of the now not too hot coffee and a final chew of the deep, dark, sweet/salty caramel chocolate.)
I sadly picked up the last crumbs of the cake, my comfort. That cake was jolly good and I was glad to say there was some left for another day when I might need consolation. I could always rely on cake to help me sort out whatever difficulties came my way, sort out any problems, you know, like how much my electricity was going to be this month, or to take away the nasty taste left by strong medication,
I packed my plate and cup in the dishwasher, gave a sigh of satisfaction but then went to meet my maker, the bathroom scales.