Burn & Irritating

Written 55-I21 [2024-03-22], Edited 55-I21 [2024-03-22]

Image credit: Twitter Twemoji

Part 1: Burned

I put the cake in the oven and noticed something on my phone.

“I’m only free at 19:00,” said a text Andrea sent at 18:00.

“Holy crap!” I thought. I ran to the door, grabbed my coat, slipped my shoes on without tying the laces, and ran.

No time, no time, I thought as I called an Uber. I had to see Andrea again, and I didn’t trust the TTC to get me to Vaughn in the hour. My eyes almost popped out of my sockets when I saw the price. Then I shook my head.

I have to see Andrea, no matter the cost, I thought.

A Nissan Leaf stopped next to me. I opened the door, practically jumped in, and slammed it shut.

“Let’s go, let’s go!” I yelled. The driver was not impressed at all as he started to move. He didn’t understand the gravity of the situation, I had to see Andrea, I had to see her one last time.

I looked impatiently out the window for a second, but drops of rain turned the glass into an abstract art piece in need of critical interpretation. So with nothing else to do, I pulled out my phone and texted Andrea.

“I’m on my way,” I said.

She sent a smiling face emoji, followed by “Looking forward to the cake!”

The cake.

Oh crap, I forgot the cake.

I had to see Andrea no matter the cost. But without the cake? She’d hate me. No, I had to go back, I had to get the damn thing.

“I have to go back!” I told the driver.

“Well change the destination in the app - hey where are you going?” The driver said as I opened the door of the moving vehicle.

Part 2: Irritating

I jumped out of the car and onto some pavement. Luckily I landed on the curb, unluckily I didn’t land on my feet. My hands broke my fall and I scraped my palms on the ground.

I picked up my phone and felt pain as plastic met blood. There were many irritating notifications from Uber but no texts. Somebody yelled at me, probably the Uber driver, but instead of responding, I bolted.

I ran with wild abandon through the rain. Puddles I didn’t bother to avoid splashed my legs with dirty water. I bumped into a couple people who didn’t get out of my way. They said something, but in my mind their words were warped and twisted into Andrea’s voice.

“Looking forward to the cake!”

I returned to my building and didn’t bother taking anything off. My boots thundered through the kitchen for a few precious seconds, then I opened the oven.

Smoke flew into my eyes and nose. All I could smell was burning, all I could see was blackness. I tried to squint and see what the fuel for the fire was.

It was a chunk of charcoal-black carbon that used to be a cake.

“I’m sorry Andrea!” I yelled as a fire alarm started.

Feedback from the Joy of Writing Group

• looking forward to more from these
• narrator should offer burnt offering
  • or trick Andrea with frosting

Notes

Each part was written in 10 minutes during a Joy of Writing session.