Untitled - My Story (sorry it's long)

mike started a story meme. he picked ten words, wrote a story using them, and tagged Ed who tagged me. so, here it is:

1. pot 2. pan 3. spoon 4. fork 5. knife 6. glass 7. fire 8. water 9. light 10. sink

The knife sliced easily through the red onion, the pungent juice spilling onto the worn cutting board. The woman cutting the onion was focused intently on her task. She chopped not with the accuracy and speed of an experienced cook, but was slow and methodical as if the task was new to her and she didn't want to make a mistake. The woman's dark hair was pulled loosely behind her head in a low pony tail, a small section fell into her face and osbcured her vision. She jutted her lower lip out and blew air out forcibly. Momentarily the section of hair flew up and away from her face but immediately fell back down tickling her nose. She shook her head vigorously from side to side trying to get the wayward hair to cooperate but her actions only shook more hair out of her pony tail and into her face. Realizing she was fighting a losing battle she raised her right arm still holding the knife to her face and pushed the hair aside with the back of her hand. As she lowered her arm back down an intense sting enveloped her eyes. She squeezed shut them immediately, scrunching her face and swearing under her breath, "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!".

"Did you say something?" a male voice from the living room called out.

"Uh no, I just was looking for a ...fork. Fork! Fork! Fork!" she called back, tears streaming down her checks. She set the knife down and stepped away from the cutting board, squinting her eyes trying to find some relief. She had been planning this dinner for several days and was too stubborn to admit she was having any sort of problem. Her experience at cooking had so far been limited to microwaved rice, boxed pasta and chicken on her George Foreman grill but she didn't think a meal from scratch would be that difficult, afterall all she had to do was follow directions.

Her eyes squinting and tears continuing to stream down her face as she took a few steps to the direction of the sink. Through the pain she tried to open one eye but the tears blurred her vision. As she took another step forward her left hip slammed into an open drawer and it fell to the ground, the spoons clattering onto the tile floor. She groaned in pain, holding her hip and leaned into the sink, blindly searching for the faucet.

"Hey are you ok, what are you doing in there?" a voice called from the living room.

"Yeah I am fine, its nothing I just dropped some spoons. Everything is fine!" she replied through clenched teeht trying to sound as cheery as possible. She continued to fumble for the faucet, and turned the handle sending water rushing out into the sink. She cupped her hands underneath the running water and brought it up to her eyes, pouring the water into them to clear the sting of onion that had caused her temporary blindness. The water washed through her eyes and the sting began to subside. She reached for the dish towel on the counter and dried her face.

"That was smooth" the woman said softly to her herself, annoyed at her clumsiness. She reached down and picked up the fallen drawer and put it back in its place. As she was placing the spoons back into the drawer a noise caught her attention. She looked up and saw steam pouring out of the pot on the stove like Old Faithful. The pressure it had built up was causing the lid to jump and dance while a creamy fluid bubbled out and down the side of the pan.

"Shit!" she cried out as she rushed to the mess that was quickly forming on her stove. She instinctively stuck her hand out to remove the lid on the pot and turned the dial on the stove with her other hand. The steam enveloped her wrist as she grabbed the top of the lid, searing her exposed flesh. When she felt the pain tearing at her skin she dropped the lid, sending it clammoring onto the stove and grabbed her wrist.

"It's fine, I am fine! Just a little clumbsy tonight I guess!" she shouted, preempting the male voice from asking her about the commotion.

The sauce that has been boiling on the stove gushed over the side of the pan and spilled onto the burner andn snaked down the front of the stove and was beginning to pool on the floor. She grabbed the dish towel and removed the hot lid and place it in the sink. She then returned to the stove to remove the pot and again placed it into the sink. She tossed her dish towel onto the mess that the sauce had created, attempting to prevent it from falling off the stove.

She turned her attention to the sauce to assess whether or not any of it was salvagable but quickly realized it was a lost cause. Shifting her weight to one side, she tilted her head and sighed. She drummed her nails on the counter trying to figure out what she was going to do. She didn't want the man in the living room to know that she was ruining dinner having previously bragged that she was a good cook.

Suddenly the smell of smoke filled her nose. Wild eyed she turned to the stove and immediately saw the source of the smoke. The dish towel she had tosed on the stove had caught fire, apparently she hadn't turned the stove completely off. The flames completely enveloped the towel and she knew it was only a matter of time that the smoke alarm would go off, altering the man in the living room of the disaster she had created in the kitchen. A glass of water sat on the counter and she lunged for it, spilling the water over the side of the glass as she grasped it in her hand. She threw the water onto the fire and the flames extinguished with a loud hiss and puff of smoke. The smoke alarm had yet to go off but the room was filled with a smoky haze that was billowing up towards the ceiling, heading directly for the smoke alarm. She grabbed the pan that was in the sink and placed it on the smoking towel. It was too late though, the shrill alarm pierced her ears and she clasped her hands over them, her guttural scream overpowering even the alarm.

"GOD DAMNIT!!!"

The soud of the man running to the kitchen was hardly audible over the scream and the alarm. He frantically entered the room and quickly scanned it. Through the haze he could see the woman was standing in the middle of the room, her hands still over her ears her blood shot eyes flashed with anger. The stove was covered in a smeared chunky red sauce, a charred, smoking towel peeking out from under a pan. Various pots and pans were strewn about the room and a half chopped onion rested on the cutting board.

"What the hell is going on?" the man said, stiffling a laugh.

The woman looked up at the man, her eyes slowing changing from a look of anger to one of mild amusement until she was finally laughing. The man joined in the laughter but still wore a look of bewilderment on his face.

"Seriously are you going to fill me in on what I missed?" the man asked.

The woman composed herself and shouted over the smoke alarm to relay the story.

"I was chopping onions with that knife and my eyes started stinging and when I went to the sink to wash them out I ran into the open drawer and spilled the spoons. I washed my eyes out and when I was picking up the spoons the pot on the stove started boiling over so I tried to take the lid off and burned my wrist from the steam, I dropped the lid and grabbed the towel to remove the pot and I guess I didnt turn the stove off because I threw my hand towel on the sauce and when I looked up it was on fire. I threw the glass of water on the fire and tried to prevent the smoke from spreading I put that pan on top of the towel. It didnt work obviously".

The man laughed at the incredulus events and said, "You are one terrible chef".

"I know" the women replied, "I really am! And I need a cigarette, got a light?"


I dont have a lot of blogger friends, but I don't think Heather and E have been tagged so you are it!