Read Online This Cake is for the Party by Sarah Selecky - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Sarah Selecky
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job in Toronto teaching grade ones. She joined a volleyball team and played on Wednesday evenings, to keep active. This is where she met Bruno.
Every so often, Carolyn tried to find NuPres on the Internet. She was unsuccessful. She found out that Pike was living in Vancouver, running a queer-positive film production company. Mark S.âthe S was for Strattonâ owned and operated a fishing lodge in northern Ontario. But Larissa Levinson seemed to have disappeared.
A slice of warm chocolate cake with a wet, slick pudding centre is served in a wide dish dusted with icing sugar. A sliver of a strawberry and two blueberries roll beside it. Their dessert forks are small and highly polished. When it is set in front of him, Bruno eyes the chocolate with longing. The candlelight makes his eyes look shiny and liquefied, and Carolyn wonders briefly if the cake has made him cry. Then Bruno pinches a blueberry from the side of the dish with his fingers and puts it in his mouth. He closes his eyes and chews at length, appreciating it.
There will never be a night exactly like this ever again, she thinks. One blueberry is already gone. There are only three blueberries left between them.
The author with the silver hair has had several glasses of wine by nowâhis lips are stained from the Merlot. One greased curl has fallen out of place and hangs in front of his eyes. His movements are large and sloppy. He raises his dessert fork in the air before approaching his dessert.
Cocoa can cause sleeplessness, anxiety and an increased risk of prostate cancer, he says. He slides his fork into the side of his cake and releases a thick flow of dark chocolate. He turns to the woman sitting next to him. But the same chemical acts as a sexual stimulant, he tells her.
The night is nearly over. There is just the dancing left.
Six men in tuxedos come onto the stage and fasten themselves to their instruments. They fiddle with the dials and adjust their straps like pilots preparing for takeoff. The drummer uses a brush to make his snare drum hiss, and a large woman dressed in black velvet parts the silver curtain behind them. She walks to the microphone and closes her eyes, ignoring everyone. The woman with the peacock feather moves her chair so she can see the band, then turns back and says something to one of the guests at her table. Carolyn tries to read her lips. It looked like she said, I know I am .
The author at their table says loudly to someone, No, he did want to do something about it, but he was two hundred years too late.
Then the guitars strike and punch, the drums crack, the woman in velvet shouts, What it is what it is! and the music charges through Carolynâs spine. The other guests watch from their tables, too flattened by the volume to get up to dance. A few people nod their heads as though they agree with the woman onstage. Carolyn can see Larissaâs blue dress across the room.
Bruno dips his fork into the hot pudding and licks it off. His left foot bounces to the bass. There is a salt stain on the cuff of his pant leg that resembles New York State.
Come on, Bru, Carolyn says. She holds his wrist. I want to dance with you.
Bruno has a line of chocolate at the corner of his mouth, set in place by the fork just a second ago. Carolyn reaches out to his face and touches the line with her thumb.
The author is shouting now. His voice is wide, and he skids over the words like they are large rocks in his mouth. He yells, But in the end! In the end, whatever he may think about her in the moment, he also knows whatâs going to happen to her in the end!
Bruno says, You should try this chocolate thing.
No, Carolyn tells Bruno. We have to dance right now.
Go-Manchura
Dear Friends,
My work at the clinic has introduced me
to a number of incredible nutrition products
that I would love to share with all of you!
Please join me
in the Haliburton Highlands
on Friday, October 5 th
for a special retreat weekend!
Map and
Every so often, Carolyn tried to find NuPres on the Internet. She was unsuccessful. She found out that Pike was living in Vancouver, running a queer-positive film production company. Mark S.âthe S was for Strattonâ owned and operated a fishing lodge in northern Ontario. But Larissa Levinson seemed to have disappeared.
A slice of warm chocolate cake with a wet, slick pudding centre is served in a wide dish dusted with icing sugar. A sliver of a strawberry and two blueberries roll beside it. Their dessert forks are small and highly polished. When it is set in front of him, Bruno eyes the chocolate with longing. The candlelight makes his eyes look shiny and liquefied, and Carolyn wonders briefly if the cake has made him cry. Then Bruno pinches a blueberry from the side of the dish with his fingers and puts it in his mouth. He closes his eyes and chews at length, appreciating it.
There will never be a night exactly like this ever again, she thinks. One blueberry is already gone. There are only three blueberries left between them.
The author with the silver hair has had several glasses of wine by nowâhis lips are stained from the Merlot. One greased curl has fallen out of place and hangs in front of his eyes. His movements are large and sloppy. He raises his dessert fork in the air before approaching his dessert.
Cocoa can cause sleeplessness, anxiety and an increased risk of prostate cancer, he says. He slides his fork into the side of his cake and releases a thick flow of dark chocolate. He turns to the woman sitting next to him. But the same chemical acts as a sexual stimulant, he tells her.
The night is nearly over. There is just the dancing left.
Six men in tuxedos come onto the stage and fasten themselves to their instruments. They fiddle with the dials and adjust their straps like pilots preparing for takeoff. The drummer uses a brush to make his snare drum hiss, and a large woman dressed in black velvet parts the silver curtain behind them. She walks to the microphone and closes her eyes, ignoring everyone. The woman with the peacock feather moves her chair so she can see the band, then turns back and says something to one of the guests at her table. Carolyn tries to read her lips. It looked like she said, I know I am .
The author at their table says loudly to someone, No, he did want to do something about it, but he was two hundred years too late.
Then the guitars strike and punch, the drums crack, the woman in velvet shouts, What it is what it is! and the music charges through Carolynâs spine. The other guests watch from their tables, too flattened by the volume to get up to dance. A few people nod their heads as though they agree with the woman onstage. Carolyn can see Larissaâs blue dress across the room.
Bruno dips his fork into the hot pudding and licks it off. His left foot bounces to the bass. There is a salt stain on the cuff of his pant leg that resembles New York State.
Come on, Bru, Carolyn says. She holds his wrist. I want to dance with you.
Bruno has a line of chocolate at the corner of his mouth, set in place by the fork just a second ago. Carolyn reaches out to his face and touches the line with her thumb.
The author is shouting now. His voice is wide, and he skids over the words like they are large rocks in his mouth. He yells, But in the end! In the end, whatever he may think about her in the moment, he also knows whatâs going to happen to her in the end!
Bruno says, You should try this chocolate thing.
No, Carolyn tells Bruno. We have to dance right now.
Go-Manchura
Dear Friends,
My work at the clinic has introduced me
to a number of incredible nutrition products
that I would love to share with all of you!
Please join me
in the Haliburton Highlands
on Friday, October 5 th
for a special retreat weekend!
Map and
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