It is important that I teach you, my reader, that even in dark times that events that occur should not get you down, as you must remember that other people will rarely live up to our high standards and particularly mine. To this end, I must report on a torrid event in which I am most brave in revealing.
For the last 2 weeks my mother, the writer, had truly returned to form. She has been behaving lately; cooking me above-standard quality meals (a few being Welsh) and she had delivered the news that some of her projects have now gone into printing, and the first few to be released at a function at the nearby town hall. I enquired as to who would be in attendance and she detailed that local business figures, along with people from the church and other established establishments had been invited. Apparently this project is connected with a drive to attract new investment in the town which I have certainly noticed a decline in.
Whilst I had obviously been busy with my university work, creating the work of art that was my dissertation (remember how impressed the lecturers became that day?) I had not seen my mothers projects, I was highly confident she had created another textual work of art; ergo a novel. My mother, the writer, said in no uncertain terms her presence was mandatory and I believed this to be a highly exclusive and prestigious event and I dressed accordingly utilising my examinations attire; being my vintage brown striped suit with the stunning braces along with my best glasses, polished boots, cane and cap. What actually happened was a great disappointment..
After sometime awaiting the merchandise I decided to get some refreshments from a woman in the corner of the room assigned to coffee duty. When asking if there was a fee the 'young' woman boasted about how her coffee was the best in the town but is still free. Whilst I already knew this to be a lie and I prefer the more sophisticated kinds of coffee available on most high streets (excluding fair trade obviously) I indulged her anyway.
It was appalling. The balance of the components of the beverage was all out making it unnecessarily strong in taste without the effect. I would use the word barbaric to describe it. Feeling cheated I marched back to the table and before the bimbo could finish whatever her sentence (that would have been badly formed no doubt) I interrupted her exclaiming "too much java!" slamming the cup on the table with the intention of scolding her. From her puzzled expression it was clear that she also did not understand the native word for coffee - that is Java.
I headed towards a crowd of people to locate my mother, the writer, who was cavorting with VIP's. I had an individual enquire about my outfit and I described its purpose and power I noticed she was grasping several copies of a publication which I had not noticed before. I took one from her to analyse.
Upon closer inspection it was mostly a history of the town, but as a connoisseur of fine foods, the section of favourite local recipes caught my attention. I began to examine and as I did, the meals looked familiar and then I recognised the recipes on this piece of 'information'. I had a horrible feeling and when I enquired as to the author I was shocked and appalled. It was my mother!
I examined this further and whilst informative and pleasing to the eye this was merely a bloody pamphlet that detailed some of the highlights of our local town and what made it worse was the fact that this one I held in my hand was a sister pamphlet of another! I was most disappointed with my mothers efforts.
Perhaps the most shocking aspect, is the one recipe clearly contained nuts! Oh my lord, how could my mother, the writer, do such a thing? When I asked her about the vile meal, her answer was that she could not even remember cooking the second meal as she fell asleep in the kitchen moments after serving. What possible disruption to her thought processes must have occurred for her to feed me nuts! This is unfathomable!
My disappointment in her must have become evident in my expression and voice as she asked if there was something wrong. I did not have the strength to inform her of her rather public decline.
This event has the potential to ruin if not severely tarnish my perfect image at university since I recently told my class associates that my mother, the writer, has been crafting a novel! However, this is a pamphlet! I will refrain from mentioning any progress reports on the work of my mother to my university associates.
Hoping this will not be exposed before we leave, I am happy to report that the deadline for our final assignment and therefore the ending university is approaching where obviously I will have to assist multiple people one last time.
After these events I am considering leaving the town when my university studies have been completed, now that the family image has been slightly tarnished and leaving others disappointed.
Alternative Styles |
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