Chapter
?: Dirty delicious Swine.
Eleanor’s husband was always described as a
pig.
No matter whom he met, man, woman and even
child, every soul could agree upon one certainty – Eleanor’s husband was indeed
dirty swine. As for Eleanor you may wonder, Eleanor is
swell; a delightful woman that was slowly having her soul sucked right out of
her being by said dirty swine, a dirty swine that had once offered her paradise
only to supply her with a life of purgatory.
Once upon a time Eleanor decided to bake
her husband a sweet cinnamon infused apple pie, homemade crust and all. There
was no reason for Eleanor to bake this pie, other than to please her husband’s
taste buds. As she heard the sound of fumbling keys
outside the front door, she excitedly slid her delicate once young hands into
her brand new electric red oven mitts. Giggling in delight Eleanor pulled the
piping hot sweet apple pie out of the oven just in time to hold it out proudly
to her husband as he placed his briefcase and hung up his coat.
Her husband walked through the archway to the kitchen to acknowledge his wife with his usual nod; she was smiling cheek to cheek, and he almost mustered the slight sign of a smile as he saw the pie “Ah… fresh peach pie, just what I need after the day I’ve had.”
Eleanor shuffled on her feet slightly as she tried to maintain her smile “Actually honey, peaches are out of season; but I make the meanest gosh darn apple cinnamon pie you’ll ever taste, you’ll just love it I…”
“Don’t assume I’ll love it” Eleanor’s
husband spoke in patronizing displeasure “You cannot assume anything in life dear.”
Eleanor still holding the fresh pie forward
turned to place the pie upon the counter as all traces of her smile diminished. Then the strangest thing, she found herself unable to place the pie and her hands
began to tremble first slight and then intense, until it was completely out
of control. Eleanor swung in turn, a ball of shaking
rage, and threw the piping hot pie that had failed to please her husband –
full force – directly into his pompous face. Shocked with her strength and actions, she found herself laughing. For Eleanor had finally cracked, and it felt
wonderful as she heard her husband’s pain ridden shrieks. But this was not
enough, she had tasted her husband’s pain and it was more
delicious and satisfying than any other experience she had had during their 38
years of marriage.
38 years of marriage, 38 years of
resentment and unhappiness.
Spotting the forgotten skillet
sizzling upon the stove, Eleanor slid her hands – not so delicate
after all – out of her oven mitts and turned to her pitiful
husband as he sat crying over his melting face, offering a sickening
smirk she reached for the skillet, “There, there honey, never you mind.
Eleanor will take all the pain away… soon enough.” What followed next were a few hair-raising shrieks, and the most disturbing of cracks, as Eleanor laughed
wild and gay whilst pounding the skillet over her swine of a
husband’s skull. Pausing for a moment, as her husband
lay motionless yet not quite dead upon the wooden oak floorboards she said “Honey, we simply must throw another dinner
party. I was thinking, um, let me see, how does roast pork sound to you?”
And with one last thrust, Eleanor’s dirty
delicious swine lay ready to be prepped and carved.
&.the.bohemian.girl.xx.
