Cake
Everything was on the white counter. Eggs, milk, flour, salt, chocolate sauce, orange juice, paprika, and pepper. Hands groped in the cupboard for the bowl that was just within reach. She picked up the wooden spoon, rolled up the sleeves of her polka-dotted dress and began. Milk and juice sloshed in, eggs and shells smashed, spices sprinkled, and syrup delicately drizzled, mixed so hard it spilled out.
Mom came down to splatters on the ceiling, floor, stovetop, and the smiling face. When she asked what in the world happened, the little girl said simply, as if it were obvious, “Cake!”
Mom came down to splatters on the ceiling, floor, stovetop, and the smiling face. When she asked what in the world happened, the little girl said simply, as if it were obvious, “Cake!”