Short story by VictorM

So last week into my life walks Ivette. Pleasant and easy going enough, her stock climbed through the roof when I found out she was a gourmet cook. After a few pleasant nights out, she invited me to dinner at her house on Saturday. How can I turn down a home cooked meal?

Her house was simple and elegant. The lights were dim, the candles burning and Leonard Cohen playing on the CD. The table was immaculately set, and she was prepared to decant the Cabernet Sauvignon bottle of wine I had brought.

After a wonderful appetizer, she brought out the entrée. I wasn’t quite sure what it was. She noticed my quizzical look and reassured me to just try it. She seemed so happy to display her surprise dish that I decided to go along and not ask.

The plate was beautifully garnished. The first bite tasted wonderful. Then I noticed something in the middle of the plate that looked rather strange. I continued to make small talk and sip the wine as I explored with the fork. I could swear I was looking at the tail of a rat. I was startled but composed myself. I mean so many things could look like a rat’s tail. And besides, how do I know what a rat’s tail looks like when it’s cooked? I shrugged off my wild imagination and ate all the food. It was delicious and a perfect match for the wine.

At the end of the night, as I was ready to leave, she asked me to do her a favor. She gave me a bag to take to the dumpster outside. As I grabbed the bag I could see it looked like a pet’s cage. I asked her what it was and she said it was Franky’s cage, her pet rat. He had died that morning.

I won’t be seeing Ivette again.