LETTER 55
The Flowers
A fictional letter from Management.
Written
Management put the cake in the middle of the kitchen table.
There were eight blue icing flowers.
We cut between them, making eight pieces of the same size.
We took the last plate.
Before pouring our tea, we turned the plate so that the flower faced us.
“You like those, don’t you?” said Tess.
“It’s part of the portion,” we said.
“You can have mine, then.”
We moved our fork. Tess lifted her flower with the side of her knife and set it beside ours.
“Is that where they go?” asked Martin.
“Only the ones you don’t want.”
He put his flower on our plate.
We moved the fork a little further.
Tess took a mouthful of cake. While she was chewing, another flower arrived.
We stood the flowers upright, pressing their bases into the icing. One leaned against another. We separated them with the point of the knife.
The others began carrying their plates back to their desks.
Our mug was still empty. We had not yet touched the cake.
Tess came back for her mug. She put another napkin beside our plate.
Management