Supper

Josie walked along the street to the cemetery. The cold dampness of the day seeped into her bones. Wind blew her blond hair up and whipped it into her blue eyes but she took no notice. She looked down at the purple flowers in her hand and walked through the cemetery, intent on finding a certain grave.

She found the grave in question with the newer graves. She lay the flowers down and stared at the grave of the woman who ran the orphanage where she grew up.
Angela Todd London
Mother to thousands of motherless children



Indeed, Angela was like a mother to the children in her care. She took good care of them. She took them on outings in the summer, kept them warm in the winter and always well fed. The children kept gardens and a few apple trees, growing their own fruits and vegetables. They always had nutritious meals, well balanced with vegetables, whole grains and meat.

Josie enjoyed working on her little patch in the garden, growing beans and peppers. Until one day, as she was digging up weeds, her shovel hit something hard. She kept digging, thinking it was a rock until out popped a skull. A human skull, there was no doubt about that.

That night, Josie followed Angela out. She watched in horror as the motherly woman injected something into a homeless man and then pulled him to the orphanage in her wagon. This wasn’t an uncommon sight. Many crippled or drunk people were transported in wagons.

In the kitchen, Josie watched in disbelief as the man was scrubbed, bled, skinned, chopped and flayed. The other woman that worked at the orphanage, Holly, helped.

“Ah, that’s a good haul for tonight,” Angela said as she washed the blood off the sink. “These tramps sure provide well for our children, don’t they?”

“Indeed,” Holly answered. “What would we do without them?”

“The best part is the police don’t care. They are glad to be rid of this trash!” Angela cackled.

Josie snuck up stairs, her soul shaken. She never told the secret, for fear she would be served for dinner.