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Arts deco arts d'echo by cybergranny 


I made a tryptic named "A partir d'une glace" (From an ice cream)
For the openinf I even made tomato cones and basilic flavoured ice-cream. It was delicious

A Partir d'une Glace by cybergranny

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He's there, sitting in the kitchen in front of the oven - as always - a napkin around his neck, cutlery in each hand, watching the silent ballet of his wife, rhythmic as the tic-tac of the clock and the rain falling on the roof.

Suddenly the big hand joins the little one, and the strokes begin to ring throughout the kitchen. As soon as the woman hears, she stops dancing. The man tightens his hands around the cutlery and his face tenses as she opens the oven. An enormous meat dish appears and lands on the table; inside lies a giant roasted suckling pig surrounded by crispy potatoes. 
He plunges the knife into the flesh, furiously cuts up a big slice and shoves it into his gaping mouth. His jaws open and close loudly over the massive slab, dropping some pieces on his swollen feet; his throat gulps down the half mashed food, shaking his flabby body.

Big Fat Turkey, that's what people call him.
It has not always been like this. When he was young and thin as a rake, he played football, went out with friends and enjoyed community projects.
At that time, no one could have imagined him become so corpulent.
Things began to change during university; he stopped all his activities and sports to focus only on his studies. He obtained his diploma in economy brilliantly and got a well-paid job. He quickly became a good trader, appreciated and surrounded by many people, but with the years, he felt more and more empty. To fill the gap he began to eat increasingly.

Obsessed by his own pleasure he does not notice that each time he swallows, the world disappears a bit.
He once devoured a succulent and enormous lemon ice-cream; the next morning the news was titled "Tsunami alert in the North Pole-Ice slides and icebergs are menacing the Swedish Coast".
One of his favorite meals is sauté of veal with red wine sauce; yet every time he eats it, the newspapers are full of horrible slaughters or bombings.
He is not familiar with the spicy food, but from time to time he likes to eat Latin American cuisine. Once, he went to a Mexican restaurant and ate a hot chili con carne. The next morning we heard the news that massive fires were decimating California's coast.

Now he has emptied the meat plate, and he is even licking it. 
He puts the plate loudly on the table and shoots a naughty glance at his wife because the following dishes are taking too long.
His wife brings to the table the unctuous dessert she has prepared for him, an apple cherry pie.
He moans a little because it was a bit long and does not even thank her. It does not bother her because she loves him and likes to see him devouring what she has cooked.

He takes the pie in his hands and cuts it roughly in two, smashes the left part into his mouth, swallows greedily sucking the white cream stuck all around his face. 
He has not even finished the first slice when he pushes the second one in his mouth. He gobbles it down, but suddenly the gobbling sounds stop.
His face turns red and violet, eyes wide open; he seems to suffocate.
The loud groans have intrigued the woman, and as soon as she sees what's happening, she quickly grabs a wooden spatula to beat his back, but something in her face seems to change, a cloud comes into her eyes, her muscles tense up, and suddenly she begins to hit his head frantically.

Finally, after some long seconds, she stops and looks at the body, both scared and astonished by what she has done. Once the initial shock has worn off, she realizes that she have saved her life from decadence, and she feels relieved. She begins to turn around the corpse, tapping it from time to time with the spatula, wondering what to do with the body. One, two, four minutes pass, a slight smile appears on her face, the more she turns around, the bigger her smile is, suddenly an uncontrollable fit of laughter shakes her body.

Once she stops laughing, she hunts the whole house frantically for her address book, looking in every possible cupboard, drawer, and closet, under the furniture, mattress, and cushions. She seems desperate, but suddenly a spark of hope shines in her eyes, she goes down to the cellar, looks around for some seconds and finds a little box collecting dust. She opens it and screams joyfully “Here you are, finally!”. She goes back upstairs, picks the grimy phone, cleans it with a handkerchief and begins to compose the numbers. Calls after calls she lets old friends know about Big Fat Turkey’s death and invites them to a big party she’s organizing at home the next day. In her excitement, she even asks all her neighbors and the children from a nearby orphanage.

Once she has made all the invitations, she goes back to the kitchen and a peculiar musical ballet sets in.

A wild flamenco around the body, to the sound of the oven she’s dancing, not anymore for him, not anymore silent.
All night long, bottles, fruits, vegetables, zests, whisks, cutlery and plates juggle in the air. Appetizers, meatballs, mini pizzas, dips, pies, cakes, pancakes, cupcakes, cheesecakes come to live, pile up on the tables and invade every available space.

The fridge, drawers and cupboards open and close rhythmically, clouds of flour fly away, dance in the air and land on the table, eggs break in an arabesque of sugar, waterfalls of milk slips and swirls in bowls, hunks of dough shape and distort.    

The sun begins to rise; she looks fresh as a rose, even rejuvenated.
She decorates the house, cleans all the mess she made during the night, apart one thing: she saved the best for last: the body of her husband.
She tries to lift him up and remove his clothes, but he’s too heavy.
She runs through colorful fallen leaves to her closest neighbor named Joseph and knocks on his door. He opens it and she asks if he can help her lift something heavy. He agrees, and they both go back to her house.
 
When he sees the body, he exclaims “Oh my god, what have you done Mary?!”
“I … I know…, it seems terrible… but you know I think I saved my life, I feel he would have ended by eating me and maybe all of us; he was such a voracious man.
Joseph remains silent for some seconds and finally says: “I think you are right, Mary. You saved the humanity. Thanks a lot for what you did Mary.”
He holds her in his arms, a smile appears on her face and tears wet her eyes; she hasn’t felt so loved in a long time.
“What do you want me to do with the body?”
“Help me remove the clothes! I want to serve it as the main dish. What better way to pay tribute to his voracity?”
“Oh, that’s an excellent idea. You’re an amazing lady Mary.”
 
Once they have removed the clothes, they brush the whole body with mustard, dredge spices, pepper, and salt; they even stuff it with some oranges and lemons and put it into the enormous and hot barbecue Big Fat Turkey had built in the backyard.
 
“Joe, I'll let you handle the barbecue; I'll go back to the kitchen and finish the last preparations. I want everything to be perfect before people come.”
 
Back in the house, she stares at the blood inlaid into the wooden parquet and wonders if she wants to get rid of it or keep it as a memory of that day. After some minutes she finally moves, goes to the bedroom, takes a carpet on which Big Fat Turkey used to sleep (he had become too heavy for the bed), goes back to the kitchen and covers the blood-drenched parquet with it.
The tic-tac of the clock and the smell coming from the backyard remind her of the time passing. She feverishly gives a look around the house to check the last details; she carefully places plates, cutlery, glasses, napkins, cold and hot appetizers, and the beverages in the dining and living rooms. Everything seems perfect, but suddenly she has a disgusted expression, she hastily opens all the windows of the ground floor letting the autumnal scent fill the house. 

She goes to the backyard, to see how Joe is dealing with the barbecue, but the reflection she sees in the mirror of the corridor makes her stop and realizes she had thought about everything but her.
She runs to the bathroom, takes a quick shower and shampoo; she even puts on some light make-up found taking the dust in a drawer. She opens the hairdressing and puts on a beautiful evening dress, preserved for years in a garment bag; she puts some perfume on to cover the naphthalene smell coming from it. 

She seems to be levitating for some seconds, but the doorbell ringing brings her back to reality.

 
“The first guests, the first guests!” she screams nervously and runs madly down the stairs. She opens the door and her face illuminates, the guests are ancient friends they hadn’t met in 30 years.
“Come in, come in Gaspard and Balty! Welcome in my house, I’m thrilled you’re the first ones! Let the party begin!”
They look at her surprised; they expected her to be depressed, and instead, she stands in front of them happier than ever. They enter into a house perfumed with various food scents and a light touch of happiness. She notices the surprised expressions on their faces.
“I want that day to be a fabulous day in memory of my husband so that everyone will remember it with enjoyment.”
“Oh, that’s very admiring, Mary! We’re sorry for what happened. Here is a bouquet of chrysanthemum and daisies freshly picked with love from our garden, hoping it will soften your sadness.”
Mary takes the flowers and puts them joyously in a blue ceramic vase.
Guests come, one after another, creating a human tide full of laughs, babbles and conversations; full of people eating and drinking, delighted by the feast, Mary had prepared, full of kids playing Indians and cowboys, shouting and running around the tables.
Suddenly one of the children stumbles over the carpet, revealing the blood stains; people stop talking and stare at them. Mary’s face becomes livid, and she drops the pumpkin pie she was eating.
An awkward silence fills the house. In the backyard, Joe, who is still grilling and slicing the numerous pieces of meat, is intrigued. He puts down the knife and comes inside. As he walks in the house the silence turns into an increasing brouhaha, the closer he gets the clearer the sound is. He can now distinctly perceive upset and inquisitive voices coming from the main room.
“What happened here? What did you do? How did Big Fat Turkey die?”
He realizes Mary is in trouble and runs towards the dining room.
When he enters he sees the turned over carpet and Mary, who stands immobile near the uncovered strains of blood, her eyes are looking down at the floor.
Joe takes Mary by her shoulder and screams to the guests:
“Everybody shut up!
Mary is a fabulous lady!
You all should be thankful to her for that wonderful day! She spent all the night cooking and preparing the house to welcome you. And not only should you be thankful to her for that but also because she saved the earth and each one of you.”
“What? In what way did she save our lives and the earth?”
“She killed him because he was eating the world.”
People look at them both horrified and perplexed.
“Most of you have not seen him in years. You can’t imagine how much he had changed.
With years, he became more and more greedy, voracious and obese. Each time he was eating, a part of the world was disappearing. It came to such a point that Mary had no other choice but to kill him. She’s such a courageous lady!”
A shy smile appears on Mary’s face.

“In no way! You’re totally crazy! It’s a murder! We’re not staying here any longer!”

“It’s not murder; it’s a heroic act! She totally deserves our gratitude. Let’s thank her and celebrate altogether that day!"

Joe gives Mary a kiss on her left cheek and starts to applaud. At first hesitant, the whole room progressively ends by enthusiastically clapping their hands and acclaiming Mary with a concerto of thank you.
After two or three minutes of both smiling and crying, she calms down and says with a catch in her voice:
“Thanks a lot for your support. I am both astonished and sooo relieved too. I will always be grateful for those moments.”
With a thrilled tone, she adds:
“I think it’s time to serve the main meal. 
Let’s seat and share together the meat Joe has been grilling all the day!

The meat that we will serve tonight is very special. In memory of Big Fat Turkey and for paying tribute to his voracity we decided the best way was to eat him. So yes, we will eat Big Fat Turkey this evening.” 

Inside a pig lies a turkey

EDIT: I changed the title and added automnal scent

I have finally finished that short story!

Done for a contest launched  (a long time ago) by neurotype "alternative ending"
I rewrote the ending of that story

 

Big fat turkeyBig fat turkey
The man who eats the world
He's there sitting in the kitchen in front of the oven - as always - a napkin around his neck, cutlery in each hand, watching the silent ballet of his wife, rhythmic as the tic-tac of the clock and the rain falling on the roof.
Suddenly the big hand joins the little one and strokes begin to ring through the kitchen. As soon as the woman hears, she stops dancing. The man tightens his hands around the cutlery and his face tenses as she opens the oven. An enormous meat dish appears and lands on the table, inside lies a roasted pig surrounded by crusty potatoes.
He plunges the knife into the meat, furiously cuts up a big slice and shoves it into his gaping mouth, his jaws open and close loudly over the massive slice, letting some pieces fall down his swollen feet, the throat gulps down the half mashed food giving bumps to his flabby body.
Big fat turkey, that is what people nickname him.
It has not always been like that.
Whe


It took me time haha (I'm really a slow writer)

I know there must be some punctuations problems, spaces with paragraphs and maybe wording too. English isn't my first language and I haven't written a lot of prose. If you see something wrong or that could be improved, please let me know.

I'm not much fond of  too many details, I prefer people to imagine rather than describe everything. I tried to keep to the necessary details. Do you think I could get rid of some words/sentences or/and that some lines need more details?
I was also hesitating between telling it was autumn or rather showing. I chose showing but I'm not sure it works? Hints are flowers that grow during autumn and the multicolor leaves on the ground. I'll add maybe autumnal scent somewhere but I will not mention it's November (too obvious for me). Maybe you could give me hints on how to suggest it better.

I also asked myself "Mary takes the flowers and puts them joyously in a blue ceramic vase." if I should choose another color or maybe I could have chosen to put flowers in a pumpkin?I'll keep it the way it is, blue is a happy color for me and a pumpking would be too obvious and a bit akward.

Someone told me that the end wasn't as good as the other parts, and in fact I totally agree. I edited the last sentences. I like it better so, but I'm still wondering if it needs more lines describing the rest of the dinner and night.

Thanks a lot to neurotype hell-on-a-stick copperrein vicexversa for the corrections and suggestions



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Retour de voyage by cybergranny
Retour de voyage
Poster I made for a friend who is organizing a collective exhibition called "back from travelling" and showcasing art made during travels or inspired from travels.
The boat is a watercolor made by my friend and the other pictures are stocks bought from istock.


www.arva.ch
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cybergranny
Crazy Paranoid Licking Cat
Artist | Hobbyist | Traditional Art
Switzerland
I have a psychopath laugh according to a co-worker! Best compliment^^
Currently working as a medical lab as main job but in my spare time I love creating and expressing things.
My brain is always full of ideas and imagination.I like to play with senses, sensuality and a bit provocation.
I exhibit from time to time and love to work on collaborative projects.
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:iconrea-the-squirrel:
Rea-the-squirrel Featured By Owner Jan 21, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist

Thank you for the :+fav:! :)

If you like yummy pictures, you can check out my other food photographies here -> rea-the-squirrel.deviantart.co… :dance:

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:icondrippingwords:
DrippingWords Featured By Owner Nov 12, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks for the watch!
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:iconrhynwilliams:
RhynWilliams Featured By Owner Oct 20, 2015   Traditional Artist
:heart:
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:iconcybergranny:
cybergranny Featured By Owner Oct 21, 2015  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
:lick:
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:iconrhynwilliams:
RhynWilliams Featured By Owner Oct 21, 2015   Traditional Artist
:#1:
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:iconbrennenxr:
brennenxr Featured By Owner Oct 18, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you for watching back, dear! :hug: :)
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:iconcybergranny:
cybergranny Featured By Owner Oct 19, 2015  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
I thought I was already watching you :o, there are weird stuff happening
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:iconbrennenxr:
brennenxr Featured By Owner Oct 19, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
:faint: That happens to me every once in a while. Drives me mad!
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:iconcybergranny:
cybergranny Featured By Owner Oct 19, 2015  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
hehehe same here!
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:iconqueen-kitty:
Queen-Kitty Featured By Owner Edited Sep 23, 2015   Photographer
Thank you very much for the watch! I hope you enjoy seeing my new work!
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