Love
A Bit Of Sweetness
That Friday didn’t start well for Charlie. At all. He arrived to work late when he was supposed to open the shop. And it was very hot as well, extremely and weirdly hot for London, probably the hottest day of the year. He ran to the changing room to leave his stuff, put his apron on, then quickly displayed the cakes on the glass cake stands at the sides of the till and set the tables which luckily didn’t take that long because the Garden café wasn’t a big place, just one main floor and lots of colourful flowers all around the white walls. So he was already sweaty and stressed out as hell by then, when he received a text message from Katia, his co-worker, saying that she would be late for her shift. “Perfect, what else could go wrong?” he thought. It was “just” the day that he really needed to leave on time so that he could go home and organize his anniversary surprise for his boyfriend.
By Carmine Giangregorio5 years ago in Fiction
It's a Piece of Cake!
The slice of cake sat there between them on the table. Looking soft and moist, the sun glinted mildly off the skin of the glacé cherry inside the deep chocolate layer on top and the jam that sat in the middle of the slice. The velvety ganache dripped down the sides from the top. The mound of cream at the thick end of the slice had been carefully sculpted into a flower with a beautiful ring of gold with a single large diamond sitting in the center. Elly looked so happy as he asked her to marry him, here in their favourite cafe with the chocolate cake she ALWAYS ordered.
By Diana Trezona5 years ago in Fiction
The Last Piece of You
“You think you’re going to want this still?” Janine turned around to see her mother holding a blue polyester tie. Small furls of thread hung from the raggedy cloth. Her mouth formed an involuntary frown as her hand touched the material. It was rough, cheap, both in texture and appearance. Running her fingers along the length of the tie.
By Caleb Joseph Carrillo5 years ago in Fiction
The Marriage Thing
Alex pulled out his phone and made the call. Twenty-four hours later he and Priest were seated in a lavish restaurant overlooking the bay, 2000 miles from home. The idyllic view of sails against an azure sky and lush greens in the distance was wasted as they both stared anxiously at the restaurant’s entrance. Priest sipped a scotch and soda hoping the simple cocktail would calm the worst case of nerves he’d had in years.
By Karen Sullivan 5 years ago in Fiction
Happily Ever After
Proposals. They are beautiful moments in the journey through love, and they are usually planned to be a surprise. The thing is most people get a feeling, an intuition if you will, when it is about to happen. They will spend the whole day before what they feel is about to be that “special date” getting their nails or hair done, buying a new outfit or whatever else the case may be while also trying to not make it look like they know.
By Ashley Johnson5 years ago in Fiction
Papi
Papi. That’s what I liked to call him. He was my little slice of chocolate cake. I loved him like no other. He meant the world to me. His skin was like milk chocolate. That turned me on. What really made me fall for him was his brain. He told me that I was sapiosexual. I had to look it up. He was right. Every word that came from his mouth made me want to bend to his every will. We could have conversations about anything and everything and I could not be happier with him. When I was with him; I was complete. I really wanted us. I had a vision for us.
By Patricia Brothers5 years ago in Fiction
Love at Second Sight
Victoria rolled over to her left side for what felt like the millionth time in the last 4 hours since she'd forced herself to try to sleep. The digital clock beside the bed glared back at her - 7:02 a.m. She couldn't remember the last time she'd slept in. All the years of traveling and catching early morning flights had trained her body to wake up often before the sun came up. Even the times she'd been at home, she'd often jumped up at 5:30 am hoping to catch a few minutes alone before the kids woke up.
By Reading Writer5 years ago in Fiction
A Slice of Heaven in the Mediterranean
Arianna was embarking on the journey of a lifetime. She was travelling to Rome, alone. It’s not what she had intended. Her best friend Chiara was supposed to be there, sitting beside her in the airplane, but something came up, or rather someone by the name of Nathan. She couldn’t be mad at her friend for wanting to use her travel money for her honeymoon later in the year. Arianna would have to make the best of it on her own. It would be her own Roman Holiday.
By Madeleine LQ5 years ago in Fiction
Chocolate Cake For One
Baking Instructions Preheat the oven to 350º F. Stare at the little oven light for a minute questioning whether you really want to be doing this. It’s a Friday evening and you could be going out for drinks instead, maybe even meet someone new and cute. It might even be easier than making excuses for your friends who won’t stop texting. Use either cooking spray or butter to prepare a 12 inch cake pan. You pull out the leftover butter from the fridge that he used to use every morning. It has been hard to ignore it this last week, so you think it’s probably relief that you’re feeling as you massage the last of it into the edges of the pan; but you’re not really sure. Add cocoa powder, sugar, flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt to a bowl. Yep, real sugar. Not that weird sugar substitute he made you use when he was on that low carb kick and you were trying to eat keto together. You've still got a massive bag of the “real stuff” from before you were together. It was waiting there all along, a loyal little bag of sweetness. You pour in an extra tablespoon of the stuff, imagining how much he would disapprove if he could see it. Well he’s not here to judge anymore. Stir the dry ingredients until combined well. Note how easy it is. You can totally do this on your own! Hear the oven beep when it reaches 350º F. The sudden noise makes you realize how quiet it is, more than usual even. You turn on some music to fill the space. Crack some eggs into a bowl to whisk. Open the fridge to see that the few remaining eggs in the carton have little faces he had drawn on them, who even knows when. One is smiling, another has a little monocle, and the other looks terrified. You double check the dates. Was he really feeling so silly even in the last couple of weeks? Crack some eggs into a bowl to whisk. You’re still wondering when he did this. It had felt like non-stop stress and arguing the last few weeks, so was there really a moment when he was feeling light enough to do this? It couldn’t have just been you feeling so strongly, could it? Crack some eggs into a bowl to whisk. You take your time picking which eggs to sacrifice to the dessert altar. Even though the recipes call for all three, you leave one staring back at you in the fridge. You wonder how preoccupied you had to be to have not noticed the little guys for the last week. Add eggs, milk, water, vegetable oil and vanilla to the bowl of dry ingredients. Mix together on medium speed until consistent. You didn’t invest in a hand mixer, yet. It was on the long list of items you were going to get on an IKEA trip together, had the big move gone through. So, using just a spoon, this part feels a little tougher and you miss being able to take turns with someone to do it. It’s ok, you could use the workout. You give yourself some breaks and turn up the music to amp yourself up a bit. Pour cake batter into the prepared pan. You know this is the part where he would want to add some nuts. Or more likely, the part where you would start fighting about nuts. Nuts he’d accuse you of failing to replace after you finished the bag, or nuts that were salted when you were supposed to pick up the ones that were unsalted. Nuts first, and then a missed dinner or late night or any number of other things you weren’t being considerate enough about. You remind yourself that this is all your cake now. You don’t need to bicker and debate about every little thing. You don’t need to compromise. You tell yourself it’s better this way as you add rainbow sprinkles and some chocolate chips instead. Bake for 30 minutes. You had prepared a glass of wine and a show on Netflix for this wait. But you decide to use the time to clean up a bit instead. For some reason, you wanted to do this in silence and you turned off the music. It’s surprising how quickly you are able to clear the table area and you realize you no longer have to deal with the extra dishes of another person. You listen to the silence and wonder what he’s doing right now. Is he out with friends? On a date somewhere? Or maybe he’s alone too, making some super low carb version of this cake with extra nuts? Remove cake from the oven and allow it to cool for 10 minutes before frosting. You had bought one of the containers of sugary frosting for this, but noticed there was still some almond butter he had prepared that will probably go bad soon. He had made it as an alternative for you to try instead of the sugary frosting you liked. At the time, you didn’t like what you felt he was implying with this gesture. But now, standing between it and the surviving egg examining you through it’s tiny monocle, you wonder if maybe you had jumped to assumptions. A stubborn voice tells you to fight the urge to try it and instead stick to the original cake you had envisioned for yourself, sugary frosting galore. Rely on your own baking intuition. This is your damn cake and you’re in control. You grab the sugary frosting container and close the fridge quickly before you can change your mind. Top cake with frosting. As you smother the cake in chocolate frosting, you continue to think about the little egg in the fridge. You wonder if maybe he had hoped you would have seen it sooner. But would noticing something so small have even mattered? Maybe you’re just overthinking things now. Eat and enjoy! The cake isn’t terrible. Definitely been a while since you had something so sweet and you realize you probably went a little too hard on the added chocolate chips. Still, something tastes off. You wonder if maybe you should have sucked it up and cracked the last little egg. But another part of you wonders if maybe all it needed was some nuts. Or maybe almond butter.
By Mick Helson5 years ago in Fiction
