Of all the people who work in this office there’s only one I can’t stand. She’s usually over there. She’s usually the one with the loud voice that explains to Jacinta how to make blackberry pie but in fact she’s trying to educate the entire office staff. Well, she’s not really trying to educate the entire room; it’s more that’s she tries to explain why her blackberry pie is better than anyone else’s.
It all came to a head last Thursday. It was my birthday, and then out of the blue a big bunch of flowers arrived from my husband (he’s such a romantic!). They were absolutely gorgeous and it was such a surprise. Everyone crowded around to admire them and that’s when Rosie-Lynn asked in a loud voice (that’s the blackberry pie maker): “Is that all you’re getting?” She then proceeded to explain the meaning of each flower and its colour. By the end of her explanation, had I been more gullible, I would have been convinced that my husband was having an affair and was taking the house and the kids and moving to Bermuda.
And then last Monday – you’ve guessed it – it was Rosie-Lynn’s birthday. Did her husband send her flowers or what? Plus there was a beautiful diamond necklace. (I’m not too mean not to admit that, yes, it was beautiful). The whole world knew it was Rosie-Lynn’s birthday. They merely had to hear the oohs and aahs to know the reality. To cap it all off she turned to me and said, “Now that’s how you celebrate a birthday”.
I’ve always disliked her, but her undercurrent of supercilious needling and so on gets me down. In fact I have to make an effort to remain positive and pleasant.
Then just yesterday Jacinta told me a few things about Rosie-Lynn. Rosie Lynn wasn’t married. She lived alone. She sent herself the necklace and flowers. And her birthday wasn’t last Monday – not unless she celebrates her birthday four times a year. I was a little bit relieved, not in a spiteful way but it was nice to know the place from whence Rosie-Lynn’s spitefulness emanated.
A group of us went out to lunch, but Rosie-Lynn didn’t come with us thank goodness. And when we got back to the office, Rosie Lynn was lying on the floor. She had “done herself in”.
Now, did she get a little help to ‘do herself in’ I wonder, or is this a tragedy of epic proportions…
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I like to think it’s epic.
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That is tragic allright!
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Thank you.
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She left a note on the best way of doing it…in caps.
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She ate poisoned blackberry pie obviously.
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Obviously!
I know wha inspired this one.
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Ouch.
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The life of the maker of best blackberry pies has been captured well, it’s brittleness has unravelled in right earnest quickly before the reader’s eyes. As far the incidence of her death which is reminiscent of baking of blackberry pies, the event has trappings of a meticulously planned recipe.
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Thank you – although I didn’t know she was going to kill herself off until typing out the dastardly deed!
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now for the rest of your life you’ll be haunted with the thought, “if only we had invited her to lunch…”
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And it was such a lovely lunch – eggs and salmon…
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🙂 now I’m upset that I wasn’t invited…
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Maybe the flowers were poison?
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Perhaps she mistook the poison oak for an edible pansy – a common misconception I would imagine.
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So who gets the diamond necklace?
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Ah! We always wondered who the money-grabbing aunt was – and now we know!
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