LETTER 49
No Fuss
A fictional letter from Management.
Written
Management asked Mae not to make a fuss about our birthday.
“When is it?”
“Tomorrow.”
“All right,” she said.
At eleven the next day, Ruth came through with a stack of small plates.
We moved our papers.
She put the plates in the cupboard.
At lunch, we went to the baker’s.
“Shall I write anything on it?” she asked.
“No need.”
“Candles?”
“One.”
We carried the box back and put it on the packing table.
“The baker had one left,” we said.
Ruth fetched the plates. Mae opened the cutlery drawer.
She held the knife above the cake.
“One moment.”
We took the candle from our pocket and pushed it into the icing.
“Has anyone got a match?”
Management