the future of electronics its here

Living in a place somewhere between all of those great cities, Dell had never collected in all those ten years, nor had he seen a single flake of Christmas Day snow hanging in the air of his hometown. Are you going to come and carve Mary called from the kitchen. Mary was draining vegetables through a sieve. Might snow You havent put money on it, have you Hell, no. He whisked the foil cover off the goose and rotated the plate to get a better purchase with his knife. Just a thought. Mary tapped her sieve on the lip of the sink as Dell began to carve. Hasnt snowed on Christmas Day in ten years. Plates warming in the oven. Bring them through When Dell had finished carving, each plate boasted a plump goose leg and two neatly carved slices of breast. There were roasted potatoes and four types of vegetables, all steaming in serving dishes. The gravy boat was piping and there was stuffing and sausages wrapped in bacon, and cranberry sauce. I went in for an Italian this year, Dell said, pouring Mary a glass of rubyred wine and then one for himself. He pronounced the I in Italian the way you might pronounce eyewitness. Italian wine. Hope that goes well with the goose. Im sure it will be lovely. Thought wed have a change from the French. Though I could easily have had a South African. There was a South African on offer. At the supermarket. Lets see, shall we Mary said, offering her glass for the clinking. Cheers! Cheers! And it was the cheers moment, that gentle touching of the crystalware, that Dell hated the most. Feared it and detested it. Because even though nothing was ever stated and even though the faultless food was served up with wide smiles and the clinking of glasses was conducted with genuine affection from both parties, there was always at this moment of ritual a fleck in his wifes eye. A tiny instant of catchlight, razorsharp, and he knew hed better talk over it pretty damn quick. What do you think of the Italian Lovely. Beautiful. A good choice. Because there was also a bottle from Argentina. Special offer. And I nearly went for that. Argentina Well, theres one we could try another time. But you like this Love it. Lovely. Come on, lets see what you make o this goose. Wine was one of the fixtures of Christmas dinner that had changed over the years. When the kids were small both he and Mary had been content with a glass of beer, maybe a schooner of lager. But beer had been displaced by wine on the table for Christmas Day. Serving dishes were a recent addition, too. Back in those days everything was heaped on the plates and brought to the table, a readyassembled island of food floating in a sea of gravy. Cranberry sauce was exotic once. When the ren were small. Well, what do you think of that goose Bloody beautiful. And cooked to perfection. A tiny flush of pleasure appeared on Marys cheek. After all these years of marriage, Dell could do this. Just the right words. You know what, Mary All these Christmases we could have been having goose. Hey, look out of the window! Mary turned. Outside, a few tiny flakes of snow were billowing. It was Christmas Day and it was snowing; here, at least. You have had a bet, havent you Mary said. Dell was about to answer when they both heard a light tapping at the front door. Most people rang the electrical bell, but today someone was knocking. Dell had his knife in the mustard pot. Who the hell is that on Christmas Day No idea. What a time to call! Ill get it. Dell stood and put his napkin on his seat. Then he went down the hall. There was a figure outlined in the frosted glass of the inner door. Dell had to release a small chain and unlock the inner door before opening the porch door. A young woman, perhaps in her early twenties, gazed back at him from behind dark glasses. Through the dark glass he could make out wide, unblinking eyes. She wore a Peruvianstyle woolen hat with earflaps and tassels. The tassels made him think of bells. Hello, duckie, Dell said briskly, not unfriendly. It was Christmas Day after all. The woman said nothing. She gazed back at him with a timid, almost fearful smile on her lips. Happy Christmas, love. What can I do for you The woman shuffled from one foot to another, not removing her gaze. Her clothes were odd; she seemed to be some kind of hippie. She blinked behind her dark glasses and he thought she looked familiar. Then it occurred to him that she was maybe collecting for some charitable cause. He put his hand in his pocket. At last she spoke. Hello, Dad, she said. Mary came bustling from behind, trying to peer around him. Who is it she said. The woman switched her gaze from Dell to Mary. Mary stared hard at her, seeing something familiar in the young woman behind the dark lenses. There came a slight gagging sound from Marys throat; then Mary fainted clean away. Dell stumbled and only half caught her as she fell. Marys unconscious body hit the stone tiles at the threshold with a thud and a sigh of wind.

ON THE OTHER SIDE of Charnwood Forest at a ramshackle cottage on the road to Quorn, Peter Martin was stacking the dishwasher. Christmas dinner had been trashed a couple of hours ago and he was still wearing an acidred paper crown from a Christmas cracker but hed forgotten it was there. His wife, Genevieve, had her bare feet up on the sofa, exhausted by the responsibility of coordinating the domestic crisis of Christmas in a house with a dreamy husband, four kids, two dogs, a mare in the paddock, a rabbit, and a guinea pig, plus sundry invading mice and rats that kept finding inventive routes into their kitchen. In many ways it was a house weathering a permanent state of siege.

No more incoming messages will be delivered. Just tell us
Schuler Nieland. 3308 Lovell Ct Las Vegas Nv 89121-3733

Remove your name and info from our list by subitting your name here
225 Thomas Ave N Minneapolis MN 55405

DealsElectronicsBest SellersGadgetsComputers

Deals
Electronics
Best Sellers
Gadgets
Computers