For Sonya’s Three Line Tales photo prompt.
Photo ©Annie Spratt via Unsplash
The table was set for dinner, napkins unfolded, chairs pulled out but everyone appeared to have left before the food arrived—reminiscent of something, she thought.
All she found in the kitchen was the roast that had been left to dry out in the oven and the soup and vegetables all gone clock cold, so she lit a candle before going to have a poke around in the cellar.
It was when she opened the cellar door and got the whiff of gas that she remembered the theory about the Marie Celeste and just had time to curse the lack of electricity and the damn candle before—