The Park, Monday Afternoon
When Warren had suggested a picnic in the park (far from any flamingos) for their lunch, Karla had assumed he meant an actual picnic. A basket, a blanket, some sandwiches, a few sodas, and maybe some fruit for dessert. When they finally arrived at the corner of the park where Warren had set up, Karla realized that they were operating under two very different ideas of what a picnic was.
Snowy white linens covered the ground for several yards in every direction. In the center was--quite literally--a feast: two carafes of what smelled like coffee, a plate of various kinds of sandwiches with the crusts removed, at least three different kinds of salad, Quiche Lorraine, and what Karla was willing to bet was a whole roast chicken. And that was what she'd noticed first; there were numerous other handwavy plates and bowls filled with food, all of which smelled heavenly.
"Should I go change?" Karla asked, looking at the spread before them. "I feel like I should be dressed in something much nicer than this." She was only half-joking, really. "Mother Night, Warren, this looks amazing. All this for just some wing-scritches?"
[For the one mentioned! Warren and the picnic modded with permission.]
Snowy white linens covered the ground for several yards in every direction. In the center was--quite literally--a feast: two carafes of what smelled like coffee, a plate of various kinds of sandwiches with the crusts removed, at least three different kinds of salad, Quiche Lorraine, and what Karla was willing to bet was a whole roast chicken. And that was what she'd noticed first; there were numerous other handwavy plates and bowls filled with food, all of which smelled heavenly.
"Should I go change?" Karla asked, looking at the spread before them. "I feel like I should be dressed in something much nicer than this." She was only half-joking, really. "Mother Night, Warren, this looks amazing. All this for just some wing-scritches?"
[For the one mentioned! Warren and the picnic modded with permission.]