Lara’s Christmas among Meat Eaters (3)

The table had been beautifully set. A discreetly embroidered tablecloth had been lying on it, accompanied by the matching serviettes and a service that was tailored to it. Candles were burning and it could all have been beautiful if it wasn’t for the dead animal on it. Lara suddenly had to swallow, even down her tears. „The festival of love is a festival of death, actually,“ she had thought, but not said it as she took her seat. „Very nice,“ she had heard her father say, „Now let’s say grace and then eat this wonderful bird together, which God in his wisdom gave us for food.“ Automatically everyone had folded their hands and lowered their eyes, while the master of the house said prayer. „Well, let’s start then,“ he explained and took over the carving, „Lara, you’ll have to eat that too, because we don’t have any extra sausages.“
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