Daily Writings 8

Scene 1

Cooking breakfast is one of those daily rituals that just make me feel more human. That's why, when I woke up today, I decided to cook my favorite kind. So, with the mintiness of my toothpaste still fresh on my breath, I browsed the cabinets in my small kitchen. "Some flour here and some sugar there," I half-sang to myself. When I grabbed the last ingredient though, I couldn't quite shake the feeling that I'd forgotten something. Tapping the tip of my nose, I slowly spun around, hoping it would come to me. Finally, I stopped. Spinning like I was in a music box had done the trick, because music was just what I had been missing!

After deciding on an obscure track from a retro video game I liked as a kid, I finally got to cooking. Starting with my dry ingredients, I slowly incorporated everything together in a bowl that was definitely a little too small. "Perfect!" I said, ignoring the mix that managed to escape.

Forgoing anything that could properly pour mix, I decided to go for the trusted bowl to pan method. Sizzling when it touched the pan, the mix ribboned down in uneven sheets, forming a perfectly imperfect circle of sweet and doughy goodness.

When both sides had browned and the middle fluffed to an inch thick, I gently slid it from the pan to a thick paper plate. They were nearly the same size, so I had to be careful when glazing it in maple syrup, but the final product was more than worth it and, as I took a bite, I couldn't help but think, "This is what it's like to feel human."


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