Zach sat there, gazing at the pie. It looked as perfect as it always did, and he knew that in a few minutes he was going to serve it for desert. He loved hosting small dinner parties, and he loved all of the preparation for them. He went into another world … classical music in the background, ingredients lined up on the counter. He could create anything that he wanted to in this world.
He smiled as he glanced into the living room at his guests. They were the same two couples that had been there the last time that he served rhubarb pie. The night that Shannon had died in her sleep. The strong taste of rhubarb can cover many things.
© 2000 – 2013 Bonnie Cehovet
All material on this site is copyright by Bonnie Cehovet, and may not be reproduced in any format without written permission.