“Refinement,” Albert said, raising his glass high. “That’s what’s missing from society these days. A sense of class. Culture.”
Light glinted on the rim of the round glass and danced over the little ripples in the golden wine. Albert watched it in silence for a moment, studying each little movement. The wine’s aroma filled his nostrils. He took a small sip and let the taste linger on his tongue.
Yes, he decided, this was an excellent vintage.
“What a shame,” Albert continued, “that our society no longer values such things. Such wonderful, wonderful things.”
His gaze swept over the room and he smiled a cold smile, one that never reached his dark eyes.
“Wouldn’t you agree?” he asked.
There was no answer. Ten eyes stared pleadingly at him from terrified faces. Twenty hands struggled with the ropes that bound them to polished wooden chairs.
“Of course you wouldn’t,” Albert said. “That’s why you’re here. No refinement. No taste. You’re everything that’s wrong with society. And I’m here to fix it.”
A knife appeared in his hand: cold as ice, bright as silver.
“Now,” he said, “if you want to live, tell me which cheese would go best with which wine.”
Word Count: 200
This is for Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner. Thanks to rogershipp for running the challenge! The picture is from pixabay.com.