A lovely Bouquet in the Rain

          Soundtrack: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C6Il58Ln4cI
      Hollow drops of rain fall from the leaking roof, slip around the curves of the chandelier and plop on the table. No one dares reach out an arm to wipe up the nascent puddle. We sit stiff, feet tucked under each chair as we poke the food around clumsily. I looked up and my eyes met Maria's across the table. Sweet Maria, barely 13, so skinny that she never stops shaking from the cold. The table is clear glass and I see Lucien's hand squeeze hers warmly where it sits atop her thigh. Lucien's parents are quite dead as it turns out, and he has grown pale.
         There are seven seats around the table. At the head of the table sits Mr. Kern. Mr. Kern is very oddly discolored around his eyes and has been for the last 20 year. His formerly vibrant red hair has faded a dusty pink and drifted back on his splotchy scalp. Mr. Kern is always hungry. We watch him eat his entire plate in front of him before he looks up. We all jerk our eyes back down to our plates. Beautifully marinated steaks in garlic, soy and ginger; steamed potatoes, baked asparagus, creamed corn, toast, a greek salad with olives, strawberries, blueberries, never have any of us seen this much food in our lives, but not a single fork, besides Mr.Kern's, is brought to lips.
       The table is glass after all, and Kern's most recent victim lays  chest open, organs displayed colorful and dead just below the surface. The pride of the master sits as our centerpiece. Mr. Kern cleans his knife and asks the maid to bring out dessert.





Post- product- disclaimer: This did not actually ever happen to me. Do not question my sanity...until later.