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127. Jester of your Dreams

Author: V. Moody
last update Last Updated: 2021-09-13 17:13:32
Uncle Stan tasted delicious. Terry didn’t look too happy as we scarfed down the meat, even though we did share it with her and the boys. Not my idea — the girls had undergone some kind of reverse Stockholm Syndrome.

They served our prisoners first, made sure the children got the best cuts and generally undermined any attempt to intimidate the captives.

You will answer my questions or suffer my wrath. More gravy?

“That was supposed to last us for the rest of the month,” said Terry as she munched through a large mouthful of succulent, albeit stringy goat.

“Where do you get your food from?” asked Maurice as he picked his plate clean. “I didn’t see any other animals. Is there a town nearby?”

“Yes.” She stared at the white bone which was all that was left of her Uncle. “It’s about an hour’s walk from here. But we don’t buy our food from there. Uncle Stan was the last of our goats. He was the boys’ favourite.” She looked over at her boys stuffing their face
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