Flash Fiction Friday: Thanksgiving Supper
“Tomorrow is Thanksgiving!” Mama Mary plopped herself at the rickety dining table, the weathered cookbook passed down from her great-grandmother spread before her. “It’s a day when we give thanks.” She flashed a smile filled with crooked, yellowed teeth. “And it’s a day for eating!”
“Yay!” All three of her young children danced around the room.
“Will we have Golden Quiche?” Harry asked.
“Of course!” Mama nodded.
“Will we have Golden Omelettes?” Kerry asked.
“Wouldn’t be Thanksgiving without them!”
“Ooh, I’ll grab the frypan for the Golden Frittata!” Gary scuttled over to the cabinet and rummaged around.
“And it wouldn’t be the big day without our main course.” Mama Mary stood on her creaking legs and waddled over to the animal in the corner.
She patted the duck’s head. “Thanks to our lovely Gertie Goose, we’ll have plenty of eggs to feast on. But we need our roasted meat.”
Mama turned to Harry. “You head down that beanstalk and grab a few of the townsfolk. Make sure they’re nice and plump!” She paused. “Oh, and if you see that Jack fellow, be sure to grab him, too. He’ll make a nice addition to our omelettes.”
©Laura L. Zimmerman 2019