I am a collector of fragments. I have no idea where this one came from but it was too rich not to note!

The face of the pear-shaped man reminded me of the mashed turnips that Aunt Mildred used to serve alongside the Thanksgiving turkey. As he got out of the strawberry-hued car, his immense fists looked like two slabs of slightly gnawed ham. He waddled over to the counter and snarled at me under his lasagna-laden breath. “Something, my little bonbon, is fishy in Denmark.”


Slowly I lowered my grilled cheese sandwich…”