Friday Fiction: 200 Word Challenge

Friday Fiction: 200 Word Challenge

Friday Fiction: 200 Word Challenge

A quote: “There is no surprise more magical than the surprise of being loved: It is God’s finger on man’s shoulder.” ~~ Charles Morgan

I’ll start with a story …

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When mom got the stepstool and reached into the cupboard over the stove, we knew what was coming. Out came her special mixing bowl. The one she told us as kids was just a little bit magic and could only be used for cookies.

It was big, ceramic, a deep turquoise blue and probably weighed more than my toddler sister. Yet mom brought it down with grace and we’d stand in awe as all the alchemy of best.cookies.EVAH were poured in.

Years went by and now it was Grandma hauling out that bowl and a gaggle of grandkids eagerly watching and barely able to contain their excitement.
Though, it got to the point where the bowl was in a bottom cupboard as climbing stepstools was no longer a recommended activity.

Then…

We were at her home carefully going through closets to pick the last outfit she’d ever wear. I found myself in the kitchen, drawn to the cupboard. But the bowl I pulled out, the turquoise was faded, scratches and chips stood out. All the years of the kitchen cookie ritual and we never noticed?

Or was the bit-o-magic really her all along?

I let it fall from my hands.

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Now, it’s your turn.
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. featured image, cropped, Adobe Stock standard license

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3 Comments
  • Iwoots says:

    {Phone ringing}

    “hello”

    “Hey, where are you? Did you forget? Why are you whispering?”

    “oh…no…woke up..sore throat….fever….head on fire…”

    “Oh…okay. Was there anything of Mom’s that you want me to set aside for you?”

    “no….that’s alright…let her grandkids have the stuff…”

    “Okay….Oh, you remember her ‘magical’ mixing bowl?!? The shiny turquoise blue one just for cookies?”

    “…..yes….I should’ve told …..”

    “You’ll never guess where we found it!! It wasn’t in the bottom cupboard, but back in the cupboard above the stove – where it was kept when we were kids. I wonder how she got it back up there? Anyway, everybody wanted it; and we thought the fairest way would be to draw a name out of a hat.”

    “….but….”

    “I’ll drop it off on my way home. You better take good care of it. See you in a few hours.”

  • Cameron says:

    The cops took me out of my parents’ house and brought me to my aunt and uncle. I knew nothing about them other than my uncle was mom’s brother. I overheard the soft conversation that the cop was having with them about me. That was the first time I’d ever seen an adult get angry at someone other than me.

    They knew they were in for a rough time with me. They didn’t have kids and suddenly they have an almost teenager in their home who was broken. What changed was when I walked into the kitchen and my aunt was stirring something into a bowl.

    I froze when she saw me; being in the kitchen without permission was something I got punished for. But she waved me over and showed me what she was doing.

    “Making a batch of cookies,” she said. “You want to help?”

    “You can’t buy them at the store?” I asked. But instead of hitting me, she just smiled.

    “I could but they wouldn’t taste as good. Help me out and I’ll prove it.”

    I never forgot the taste and how a faded mixing bowl helped me realize that I was going to be fine.

  • Sheila Garrett says:

    Mitsue was gone. Her little dragon, once Tarzaning through the trees trying to keep up with her brothers, had grown up, met her Prince Charming, married him, and ridden off on his white horse. Literally. It was a lovely wedding, if unconventional.

    But now she felt lonely, even with the house full of people, and a little sad. Cookies, she thought, cookies made everything better. But when she got out the step-stool and opened the cabinet over the stove, her familiar blue bowl was gone and in its place was a dusty pink one. Inside was a letter.

    ‘Dear Mom, I know I should have asked you for this, you would have given it gladly, but I can’t find the words so this letter will have to do. I can’t take you with me so instead I’ll take my fondest memories of all the times you made cookies in it while you listened to all our problems, hopes, and dreams; listening until we found our own solutions, our own achievements. I only hope I can be as wonderful a Mom as you have been for us and the new bowl holds the same magic you’ve given to us already. Love, your little dragon, Mitsue.’

    Through her tears she smiled.

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