3 things to inspire 1 story written in 20 minutes. #story320
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The match struck and illuminated her face in the bloom of the flame. She touched the living flower of orange and yellow heat to the wick of a candle on her table.
Now she could see the task of the morning. It involved pouring two elements; liquid and solid into one bowl. An alchemy resulting in a new element.
She took the cardboard box in her hand, listening to all the parts shifting within. The other hand took the plastic jug labeled milk and tilted it into the bowl until a plain of white stretched across the bowls surface.
Next she tilted the box and let tumble tiny pebbles that hit the milk with a “snap”, “crackle” and “pop.”
The mixture was alive. With a spoon, she coaxed the crackling pebbles deeper into the liquid. When all of the mixture was set, she placed the bowl into a refrigeration unit.
This was to be consumed later, she would need to leave and come back before it could be done.
…
He worked from 10PM to 10AM. By the time he got home, his brain was on fire using all its capacity to stay focused on every task in front of him; unlock the car, key in ignition, reverse, turn right, stop–and so on until he made it to the house he shared with a roommate. He opened the fridge and looked at the only thing residing in its coolness. A bowl of beige mush. Trying to comprehend what his eyes were seeing, he looked very much like a deer in headlights, paralyzed with the process of understanding and possibly fear.
Leaving the fridge open he grabbed a spoon from the drawer. He pulled out the bowl and dug the spoon into the meat of whatever was in the bowl.
“What the hell is this?”
The once unique and separate pebbles had congealed into a singular blob with the help of milk and time. He pulled a piece away and it jiggled on the spoon toward his maw.
A couple of chews, that was it. He realized the genius of the concoction. The sugars blended into the milk and the milk puffed up the crispies into a delicious breakfast blob.
Whilst making a living... 