Duck You - part 1

‘There will come a time when blood will gush out from between your legs, fresh and fragrant like Sunday roast gravy’. This was how Mum had chosen to start that all important talk with her eldest daughter Donald. Dad – who had taken time off work for the occasion –sat, nodding, his hands folded annoyingly over his crossed legs.
Today was the eve of Donald’s thirteenth birthday, and Mum and Dad had thought it appropriate to talk to their pubescent daughter about the changes she should expect in her body.

Mum’s bosom was heaving. Not in an attractive way. But rather like her famous orange and Madeira soufflé, slowly rising, golden and promising, then breathing out (or flopping) with a bubble and splatter. She did that when she felt purposeful, pacing herself to unravel juicy bits and practicality. She’d followed her initial statement with:

‘expect your boobs to grow like melons. That’s if you take after me of course. If you’ve inherited your father’s sisters excuse for tits, then the progress will be slow and the results dissatisfying.’

Letter from LS

AHOY,

Lapland is back from a long, refreshing, inspiring, culinarily enticing holiday... Sat back at her computer after a long absence, she brings you two novelties for the new (school) year - that time of year we're all conditioned to relate with new beginnings. First is the first installation of my new story: Duck You. I'll drip snippets of it as they come/ or as you ask for more. As you know, Lapland really appreciates feedback. She's a real sucker for encouragement.
Two. I'm transferring my non-fiction posts to my new website: www.zelpha.co.uk. If you're more of a non-fiction person (and I know there's lots of you out there) you'll find pieces on food, culture and travel to your heart's desire. Again, we (Zelpha, Lapland and I) LOVE to hear from you, so make yourself heard!

Happy reading and much love,

LS