As it’s summer and the kids are home from school, I didn’t want to spend too much time researching and writing blog posts. Instead, you’re getting a piece of flash fiction I wrote years ago. Hope you like it!
So there we were in the kitchen, me in my pink summer skirt and him in his yellow suit. Why he insisted on wearing it, I never did find out. I suppose it was to brighten up his character or something, because fashion had nothing to do with it.
But he wasn’t too bright to begin with. He wasn’t very sweet either. In fact, I’d say he was the strong and sour type, definitely not to everybody’s taste.
Still, I’d always kind of liked him. He could give things a nice twist sometimes. You could usually find him in my house once or twice a week.
This time, I’d made risotto and he was invited. Things were going well, until he started getting fresh. I glared at him, but he just sat there. There was only one thing for it.
I went at him with a knife, but he parried and I ended up hurting myself! I did manage to open his skin, but to add to the embarrassment, he spat in my face. When I cut him again, his sour juices flowed all over the floor, messing up my nice clean kitchen.
Now I’d really had it. I grabbed him tightly, put my knife to his skin and took off a thin slice. Perfect. I cut it up and threw it in the pan. He was just a lemon anyway. I had made risotto and he was going in.
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Christa Bakker 
Reblogged this on The Line Edit.