Excerpt
1
Someone has taken off—and lost—the label on the can.
There are two glassy lines of glue with just a trace of
stripped paper where the label was attached. The can's
batch number—RG2JD 19547—is embossed on one of
the ends. Top or bottom end? No one can tell what's up
or down. The metal isn't very old.
They do not like to throw it out. It might be
salmon—not cheap. Or tuna steaks. Or rings of syruped
pineapple. Too good to waste. Guava halves. Lychees.
Leek soup. Skinned Italian plum tomatoes. Of course,
they ought to open up the can and have a look, and eat
the contents there and then. Or plan a meal around it. It
must be something that they like, or used to like. It's in
their larder. It had a label once. They chose it in the shop.
They shake the can up against their ears. They sniff at
it. They compare it with the other cans inside the larder to
find a match in size and shape. But still they cannot tell if
it is beans or fruit or fish. They are like children with
unopened birthday gifts. Will they be disappointed when
they open up the can? Will it be what they want? Sometimes
thei ... read full excerpt from The Devil's Larder ebook
