[ The moment the word 'snails' leaves Dion's lips, Joshua turns to look at the man leaning against him, the wrinkle in his nose becoming far more prominent. Snails? ]
Your father ate snails.
[ He recalls seeing them in the garden. Small, slimy things that hid within their shells. Barely enough to be a taste, let alone a bite, and considered a pest. And they ate them. ]
no subject
Your father ate snails.
[ He recalls seeing them in the garden. Small, slimy things that hid within their shells. Barely enough to be a taste, let alone a bite, and considered a pest. And they ate them. ]
I cannot imagine-- How were they cooked?