Agnes Gru Novels & Stories

someone supplies from the far end of the table at top volume. Agnes’ thin lips screw into a scowl. I can’t fault her confusion. My father hasn’t acknowledged me since my dam died. He bailed when she caught the wasting sickness, and then he just stayed gone. “No, I’m sure her name is Fluffa.” Agnes isn’t giving up. “The others just call her that. Her name’s Flora Ritchie.” Brenda goes back to ladling macaroni salad into an empty whipped cream tub, the issue settled.