A Slice of Pie

We meet Gregory Copperbell and his portly friend Dudly.

The Fancy Ones

A Short novel

By

Matthew C. Neuwien

 

 

 (A Slice of Pie)

  In a small unnamed-England town; lives a well-known journalist named Gregory Copperbell. Living in a small cottage on the edge of town, Gregory writes articles for the local newspaper and lives his life in routine and order.

   It's a cold winter's evening and Gregory has just finished writing his most recent article. Slowly he places the quill back into the inkwell and stretches his arms back.

Gregory: *To Himself* Very tiring work. They better pay me twice as much as usual.

   Gregory's inner-thoughts are interrupted by a knock at his door. He rises from the desk and walks over to the door. He unlatches the lock and opens the door slowly. It's his old friend Dudly Pendergrass. He invites his friend in and they gather around the dining room table for a spot of tea.

   Dudly is a short, heavy-set fellow with a head as shiny as a new ha'penny. He works selling perfumes and colognes on street corners in the market area of town. He has been twice married and twice divorced, with his wives getting every penny and knickknack from him. He often wishes he never quit his job at the coal mine; but after a support-beam fell on him and put him in the hospital for three weeks he decided mining was too dangerous for a man in his sixties.

Dudly: *Sips tea slowly places cup on the table.* I saw Johanna again. *Shakes head and sighs.*

Gregory: *Reassuringly* I'm sure it wasn't her. You know how bad she wanted to leave this town and go to America.

Dudly: *Dryly* Yeah, you're right.

  Gregory gets up from the table and heads into the kitchen, opening the icebox he retrieves a plate with two slices of blueberry-pie on it. He returns to the dining room and sets the plate in the center of the table.

Dudly: You know I can't eat sweets. *Eyes the pie. Mouth-watering with hunger.*

Gregory: Who told you that lot of rubbish?

Dudly: Doctor Cratchet. Says anymore sweets in my life will kill me.

Gregory: Are you sure he wasn't referring to the young women? *Scratches head.*

Dudly: Either way. I'm sorry my friend but I'm not going to eat any pie.

   After a few more hours of light banter Dudly decides to head home and get some rest. Gregory locks his door and heads upstairs with a lit-candle; slowly he enters his bedroom and takes off his clothes, stripping down to his knickerbockers. He places the candle in a holder on the nightstand and says his evening prayers. Gregory hops into bed and blows out the candle, eventually falling into a peaceful sleep.

 

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