By Peter Kahn
On Friday, December 17, Miles Archibald Bensonhurst III, company security chief, opens the top drawer of Elaine the office manager’s desk on a routine inspection, but sees something that surprises him and leaves a lasting impression.
On a ceramic plate, partially covered by a paper napkin, is half a dozen nibbled chicken feet, the skin stripped away from the dark soy-cured tendons.
Powerful tools of witchcraft is his first thought.
Another Friday, December 17, on a beach in Taiwan, they stroll arm-in-arm having just wished their twenty-one-year-old daughter at college a happy birthday.
The never-mentioned chicken feet: a favorite family dish.
Great delivery! I enjoyed this read!
Amazing what one can overlook for love. Enjoyed this…I gasped aloud at the discovery of chicken feet.