Thursday, 10 November 2011

Cake and Death: Part 1

A woman lay on her sofa. She lay perfectly still not even blinking. She stared at the yellow ceiling. She had been staring this ceiling for hours without moving, almost, without breathing.

SMASH! The woman blinked. She looked around then sat up suddenly. A sudden rush of pain went through her head. She could hear someone in the kitchen moving around, broken something being swept away. She got up slowly and walked gingerly to the kitchen, her hand holding her head even though the pain was gradually deteriorating.

In the kitchen was another woman, at least twenty years older than herself, sweeping up glass and coffee from the floor. She looked at her and smiled.

-Are you all right darling?

She took her hand away from her head, the pain completely gone now and sighed.
-Yes Mother, I’m fine. What are you doing here?

Her Mother smiled again and continued sweeping up the glass.
-I wanted to come round and see how you were; I haven’t seen you in while and thought I’d just pop round-
-Yes yes ok Mum.

She sighed again looking at the coffee on the floor.
-Did you have to break my coffee jar? I haven’t got any more.
-Sorry darling, I had wet hands from washing up and it just slipped.
-You washed up?
-Well you weren’t going to were you.
-Wait, how long have you been here?

Her Mother looked at her watch.
-Oh, quite a while now. A couple of hours?
-I came and said hello, but you were dead to the world.
-I didn’t even notice you until you dropped the coffee. How strange. I wasn’t even asleep.
-Well whatever you doing you didn’t acknowledge me. Do you want tea?
-Er, yes, some strawberry please, its over there-
-Ah yes, I see it.

She wondered back to the sofa. She looked up at the ceiling once more. There was a reason why she had stared at it all day, but couldn’t remember why.

-Here you go.
Her Mother handed her the tea sat down next to her. She looked around at the practically empty room. Apart from the sofa the only other objects were the television, a small wooden table and a bookshelf.
-Not thinking of getting more furniture then?
-No Mum.

They sipped their tea in silence for a few minutes then her Mother got up and quickly ran into the kitchen. She came back with a box.

-I made these yesterday. They should ok still, I kept them in the fridge.
She put the box in her lap and sat back on the sofa. In the box were four cupcakes, each with yellow icing on top.

Something clicked. She recalled some vivid images and realised what she had been trying to remember all morning.

-Do you not want one? Pass it here; I’m going have one if you won’t.
-You know Mum; I had the strangest dream last night.
-Oh yeh. What was it about?
-It was about cake . . . and I think murder.
-What? Cake and Murder?
-Well actually it was about a baker, I think he was the murderer. I just remember bits and pieces.

She reached inside the box and took out a cake. She carefully unwrapped it and took a bite. The cake was delicious. As she chewed, the dream started to come back to her.

-So what happened with this baker?
-Well it all started like this:

Once Upon a Time there was this baker who like to poison his cakes . . . .

To Be Continued

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