Don’t follow the pistachio-shell trail

Handwritten page of a diary dated April 25, 2004

she goes to and makes me read a recipe called Broccoli-Slaw. Says, “what don’t you like in this recipe? I’ll make a special batch for you.”

“broccoli and cabbage and cranberries and there’s probably vinegar in the cole slaw dressing.”

She said “so you only like the pistachios. Oh.”

I don’t want to be a problem. But. I can’t pretend to like that stuff. Can I? She wouldn’t want me to hurl all over the table, would she?

She went upstairs. I got the pistachios from the counter. Poured them from the bag to a plate. Counted them. I put my little pile in a little baggie. Left a note on the counter:  “There are 52 pistachios and there are 5 of us. I took my 10. You can put the rest in your cole slaw. Don’t try to look for me. I’m going deep into the woods behind Marjorie’s house. But I have food and water. And a blanket. I’ll be home by 7 p.m.”


Original image:
Published in: on May 25, 2010 at 4:30 am  Leave a Comment