It seemed as if his stomach was trying to tell him something, soon he realized what it was.
It was Friday morning right now.
By this time the wedding cake was probably already waiting on the pavement outside.
Rosie turned on her back and with it went the last piece of cloth from his abdomen. This was a sign, or at least it was just convenient.
Antony climbed out of bed and crept silently towards the bedroom door, his eyes on his,now entirely in black cloth wrapped wife. She was sleeping peacefully on her back and he saw a wisp of vermicelli under her nose was being blown into the air to the rhythm of her breathing. He opened the door and walked down the dark corridor.
He turned on the light and walked on his bare feet down the hallway toward the backdoor, the outside world where the bin was. Although the idea of the creamy calorie goodness that he would soon have disappearing into his face made him want to skip down the hallway, he kept tiptoeing quietly. However this proved to be a useless precaution because just when he made it halfway down the hall a loud screeching echoed through the house.
'Raaah! Cumulus clouds at the coast! Raaah! '
He had forgotten about the parrot.
They got the parrot only a few days ago. It had been Rosies uncle Dans pet for decades, however he had become seriously ill recently.
Rosie had frequently looked after him in the weeks before his inevitable death at his Mansion in Billund to help the nursing staff with the care taking - not because she got along so well with her old uncle, but she suspected that a close friendship with her uncle meant she could expect to inherit a vast piece of his fortune. She hoped that her uncle was to change his will following her tender loving care in the days before his death, her ploy worked. After he sadly passed away earlier this week and Rosie was ordered to visit his mansion not much later to receive her part of the inheritance, she found that Dan had been so impressed by the care Rosie had given him that he had decided to surrender the custody of his parrot to her.
The old parrot was the eternal company of her Uncle Dan, who had been one of the first meteorologists in Denmark. The latter could never accept that his glory days were over, and at home every evening at five past nine he continued to present the weather forecast to whom wanted to hear it; usually only his parrot. The latter was always eager to learn watching his boss passionately explain the next days chances of rain from the globe at Dans desk.
Rosie was disappointed and angry about this inheritance, but she would have to wait until after the wedding to think of how sh could get rid of the beast and what financial benefits she could get out of it. She had bought a far too small parakeet cage at the thrift store, the bird was crammed in it and for now she had just placed it on a table in the hallway. The parrot sat there crouched,staring outside all day with the small view he had and expressed his discontent against the shadows he saw pass his cage, especially on the basis of any weather forecast.
'
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