Here’s a bit of flash fiction (less than 100 words), based on a real event at work on Thursday, with only a teensy bit of embellishment… © Mel Melis
The Japanese visitors threaded into our canteen. Besuited and formal, I watched fascinated as one of them selected a pasty as his lunch choice. After paying, they found a bench table. They huddled round it, like they were conducting an alien autopsy. Hushed tones. The knife pierced the bready carbohydrate thick skin, a hiss of steam emanated, the pasty gasped in pain, dying and deflating. Surgeon-san then sliced it open, only to reveal… even more carbohydrate, this time in the form of potatoey cubes. They all looked very disappointed.