An Invitation of Sorts….

8th April 2015

Taramind Dewhurst, the immaculately groomed curator of The Onion Gallery, held the envelope in her grubby little hands. She had always had small hands, even as a child, they were delicate but had a firm grasp on her paperwork. She turned the envelope over and caressed her name and address, which felt raised, as if embossed.


A double constrictor knot…

Not printed then, she purred, knitting her brows into a double constrictor knot, which is unflattering on anyone of any age. Taramind was familiar with the craft of calligraphy and it was not a craft that she particularly cared for, she preferred the clean lines and balanced features of printed fonts, but she had to concede that this calligraphy had an awkward, yet modern charm. She hesitated before ripping the envelope open, as a lion would do before feasting on a caribou, and tried to guess the nature of the invitation, because surely this had to be an invitation?
She reached across her desk for her letter opener. Taking the antique bronze dagger from its sheath she made an opening incision, thus removing precisely 2mm from the top of the envelope. Within the envelope were two pieces of brown cardboard that were taped together to protect the inner content. With a concentration that caused her brows to knit once more, this time into a pair of socks, Taramind picked at the tape with her manicured nails. Two hours and one broken nail later, Taramind placed the contents on her blotter.
What sort of game is this? She wondered in italics. Why would anyone send her a photograph of a Pot Noodle? She turned the photograph over. There was a date, 21st November 2045, and an address for a village hall in a place called Mogwash….


An invitation of sorts….

27 thoughts on “An Invitation of Sorts….

  1. :: gasp ::

    I’m thinking it’s an invitation to some sort of time-capsule unearthing. Or possibly just the unearthing of a Pot Noodle to see if it’s still edible after 35 years (quite possibly, as Pot Noodles don’t consist of actual food…)?

    Oh, when you next bump into Taramind, can you ask if she’ll knit me an alarm clock cosy? Ta!

    • I have long been of the opinion that storing Pot Noodles for 35 years before consumption is the best way to go – this gives the flavours time to mature… like cheese and wine really. There is nothing quite like a vintage Pot Noodle.
      I will pass on your request to Taramind, she has over active eyebrow syndrome so she will be grateful.

  2. Wednesday Wonky Words! Yay!

    I greatly admire Ms Dewhurst’s style with the letter opener. I use a pocket knife to open letters and packages. Is that a social faux pas? [worries]

  3. Time-travel snacking. I know many things we love and revere in the current age will be no more in 2045, but its cheering to know that the comforting Pot Noodle will make a contribution to happiness and world peace, even that far in the future.

    • Mr Wells, Pot Noodle has always been with us. Don’t you find this odd? This is because Pot Noodle is actually an alien life form and will probably be forming the next government come May… or June… depending on who the Pot Noodle will do a deal with.

    • Well, it was supposed to be Tamarind… put there was a hideous typographical error during the registration of her birth. Calligraphers have been known to rename people… sometimes not for the better.

  4. Is it notification of the winner of the “Best Dried Arrangement” at the 2045 Mugwash Annual Flower Show?
    Funnily enough… My Grandfather won the same award here at the Backabeyond Flower Show in 1967… He claimed to have no interest what so ever in flowers and couldn’t even remember putting in an entry… but he won! … I might add it was just after having streaked past the ladies on the judging panel wearing nothing but his trusty pair of Dunlop Volleys.

  5. Ms Prinny, at least his arrangement was dry.
    I have been to an ‘Enormous Vegetable Competition’, it was surreal… it consisted of single large potatoes showcased on white paper plates. Rows and rows of them on trellis tables in a village hall. And they all had name badges. There may have been carrots and turnips too. This is a true story/recollection, and not just a bad dream.

  6. I don’t think that caribous and lions share the same ecosystem. But then, knowing our obsession with bottles, perharps were you reffering to THIS caribou?

    Wondering in italic… I should try that one day.


  7. Jon!! I swear I wrote my reply to Mr Cheen BEFORE clicking on your Caribou link!!! How peculiar… but such is the magical mysticism of Mogwash!
    We should all wonder in italic, it makes things legible.

  8. Pingback: A Peculiar Story and Occasional Calligraphy | Wonky Words….

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