Saturday, 29 March 2014

Domestic curry

I was at work with my supervisor, Mike. We had gone to a very nice house and were looking around. There was no one home and so we just walked around looking into rooms. 

When we reached the kitchen, I saw a pile of takeaway foil containers on the worktop. They were hot and contained various curry dishes. I started to open them, they smelt lovely. 

Mike began to say that I really shouldn't be taking the food when we heard a female crying. We opened the door to an adjoining room and a woman was sat at a table sobbing. 

We asked who else was in the house and she told us there was no one. Mike started to walk upstairs when suddenly the woman ran past him, punching him in the face as she did. 

I stood there, torn between helping Mike and going to eat the curry. 
The curry won. 

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