Happy Wordsmiths Halloween exercise: Pot Luck
Maura was delighted to be alone, finally. She’d been waiting all day to get the kitchen all to herself. There was a lot of work to do if she was going to be ready for the pre- judging and she didn’t need the prying eyes of the other contestants peering over her shoulder. Maura thought a win here would set her apart from the rest of the students. Maybe Madame Cora would notice her, finally.
Madam Cora is the queen of culinary arts and Maura was in love with her.
Ingredients assembled, utensils aligned, Maura set about her work. She’d decided on three dishes, going for the maximum allowed. She told herself it wasn’t overkill. The banging overhead was annoying, but Maura was determined not let anything knock her off her stride. She was on a mission.
The cumin-spiced sirloin with tomatillo salsa was going to anchor Maura’s entries so she decided to concentrate most on this dish, which would be easier if that incessant banging would cease. Maura wondered who was upstairs making all the noise. She wondered if it was one of the other students trying to distract her. She’d show them, she refused to be rattled.
Maura put the ingredients for the salsa in the food processor and flipped the switch. Damn. Nothing, no juice, why? Maura flipped the switch a few more times and still, nothing. Maura walked over to the circuit box to check the fuses. Of course she didn’t know what the heck she was going to do when she got there. Food she knew, fuse boxes? Not so much.
Before Maura had to decide what to do about the fuses in the box, the lights went out. Believing she must now be the un-lucky recipient of some prank, Maura didn’t panic. She did get angry and anxious. All she wanted was to finish her meals and every delay, every diversion hurt.
The banging stopped. Maura was ecstatic because her head was near splitting from the noise. Maura hoped for the lights to return without incident. She wondered why the pranksters would stop before the prank was concluded. Still, she hoped.
In either case, Maura was determined to cook these jerks under the table, putting her closer to the lovely Madam Cora. Madam Cora, hazel eyes that mesmerize, tantaliz..Bang! Maura was shaken from her reverie by big clanging sounds. Just then the lights return allowing Maura to see the source of the noise. Pots strewn from the pantry had landed in the middle of the kitchen floor.
Maura, full with all the shenanigans, stomps over to the pots building intent to do bodily harm to the first of her horrid classmates to show their putrid face. The rage taking over every fiber blinds Maura to the reality. Her last thought was how the cold floor could feel so warm.
Madam Cora’s thoughts wandered that morning during class. The lovely green eyed Maura must be sleeping in this morning-sleeping the sleep of the dead.