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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Contest Entry · #2122881
A young man Hungary and needs food badly.
The air was sweat, and coming from the kitchen. “MMMMM smells great” The voice of the 16 year old boy called out. “Whats for Dinner.”

“Food.” his mother replied.

Dropping his football pads in the living room he headed for the kitchen.

“Put that stuff in the room” the stern mom voice called out.

He sighed “all right.” his voice was annoyed, and even frustrated.

“Watch your tone” Mom snapped out.

“What for dinner?” he asked again. The smell was making him hungry.

“Food” She replied again.

“Mom come on, what kind of food.”

“Eatable,” The hint of a smirk in her voice.

“Really mom, really come on tell me.” He was returning from his room. Again he was walking to the kitchen.

“Take out the trash in the garage” mom called out again.

Again a sigh he was getting frustrated. “What for dinner mom god!” He headed to do the chore he been told.

“Good Food” She was giggling to her self now.

Into the garage and out to the side the house though the garage door. It was well heavy and dripping a little he was to inpatient to look at what it was he was just well frustrated. Back into the house he went. “Mom What for dinner”

“Set the Table.” she replied ignoring the question entirety.

Finally he mad it into the kitchen but mom was sitting at the kitchen table smoking cigarette and reading her book.

“It smell great what ever it is mom” she seemed to ignore him though as he started to set the table. “Is it roast?”

she took a drag and smiled. “well it is in the oven.”

“Awesome I love your roast.” He set the table for the two of them dad was never home before nine at night. “Are their Biscuits?”

“Yep,” she stood up and brought a bowl with a cloth in it. Then she brought corn and mashed potatoes that were on the stove. The Young man sat down at his chair as mom brought over the roast.

“Man that smell great.” She severed it up and man he was hungry practice had been hard. He took a bite it was sweat to the taste unlike any thing he had before. Not like poke and beef it wasn't gammy like deer or moose. “This taste great I think this is my favorite thing you ever made, what is it”

A smile crossed her face, a almost creepy smile and the look in her eyes turned vacant.

Again the young man asked “Mom, what is it”

In a tone that was clear was not a joke “Your father”

((word count 440))
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