Chapter 8
Honey Lily's Prospective
I opened the set of double doors that lead out to the balcony.
Walking through the doorway, carrying two bowls, two spoons and two cups,
Closing the door behind me,
Hey Harry, I want to play a game with you.
What kind of game?
A guessing game.
Harry approached a table setting in the far left corner of the balcony,
A few meters, from the railing.
Taking a seat next to his sister.
Before we go any further, I want you to close your eyes.
He does so,
Now what? He hears something clang.
What is she doing? He thought to himself.
I placed something in his hand.
Now I want you,
To lift this spoon up to your lips.
A spoon?
Is she feeding me something?
That clanging sound I heard earier was the spoon hitting against a plate or a bowl.
He took a bite out of the food.
He could tell that it had a pastry like texture.
It's some kind of dessert, isn't it?
it is, can you tell me what kind it is?
A cobbler?
Nope.
A pie?
Try again.
I give up, what is it?
Said Harry, opening his eyes.
I let out a small chuckle.
It's pound cake, silly.
Specifically lemon.
He gave me a puzzled look.
Why did you choose this flavor for me?
I shrugged my shoulders.
I don't know, I thought you were a lemon kind of guy.
Did you make this?
Mmhmm, a while ago.
Why?
I thought having a little picnic outside would take our minds off,
Of what just happen, earlier.
Oh. He knew what I meant.
It was good to see our father again,
But something's got me puzzled.
I picked up on the sudden change of mood, "What could that be?"
How did he come back from the dead?
I'm wondering the same thing.
Before Harry could dig into his pound cake,
He looked into my bowl, seeing that I had some of my own poundcake,
Piled with sone blueberries,
Then he turned his attention to the two cups,
Setting on the upper half of the bowl.