Fantasy Foods

The Phoenix hatched from an egg I threw in the fire. I held it in my hand as its heat intensified until I couldn’t stand it anymore. Out it popped, a Phoenix.

I’d swapped the egg with an old woman at work who had black teeth and a pointed hat. I didn’t know her, but hated my corned beef sandwiches, (I’d asked for roast beef but them’s the breaks,) so I really got the better deal. Luckily for the Phoenix, I got busy and hadn’t eaten what the woman had claimed a hard-boiled delicacy.

The Phoenix burst from the flames like a forest fire, circled the room three times, then crashed out of the window in molten shards. It saddened me to see it go; it was beautiful in a devastating way.

The next day, the old lady tried to swap me some vegetables. She claimed them marrow beans, but I knew better. “Oh, no you don’t, you crafty old hag!” I bellowed. “Not this time, lady!”

Besides, I’d already snaffled Phoenix rolls. It really shouldn’t have flown back.

17 thoughts on “Fantasy Foods

  1. Is a phoenix as boring to pluck as a chicken? How ’bout them entrails? Do they have the same liver greenish hue?

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