Last wish
With each rapid cyclic motion of dip, scoop and gulp, I was wondering when will it be my turn. Not that I had too many expectations or aspirations of escaping certain death, but the waxing and waning of anticipation with each dip and subsequent slip was beginning to get onto my nerves. The rhythmic actions were only going to last so long and eventually it would be my time to go.
The events of the past few days flashed in front of my eyes. The heavenly aroma of the bakery where it all started, the warped plastic tray, the jostling for space and the claustrophobia caused by cramped quarters, the smell of plastic covers. I was just lying there awaiting my turn and hoping someone would be kind enough to ask for my opinion before they decide my fate.
I must have dozed off because the next thing I remember is being thrown onto the cold floor of this receptacle along with a few others. Before we could so much as look around, we were doused in hot water. And then began the ritual. With each dip, I was hoping it would be someone else, giving me precious extra seconds of life. But as I saw our numbers dwindle and my brethren vanish one after the other, I resigned myself to the inevitable fate.
A few minutes later, I was the only one left and knew someone was saving me for the end. I smiled wryly at the irony of that statement. How would it feel to be lifted so far above the ground ? How fast will I slide down the huge slimy dark alley. What chance do I have of escape once inside ? I tried not to imagine myself doused in acids. Even as I was contemplating other horrors, I was lifted off the ground. As I saw the entrance to my hell, my last thoughts were ... never to be born as a bread crumb and be in a soup again.
With each rapid cyclic motion of dip, scoop and gulp, I was wondering when will it be my turn. Not that I had too many expectations or aspirations of escaping certain death, but the waxing and waning of anticipation with each dip and subsequent slip was beginning to get onto my nerves. The rhythmic actions were only going to last so long and eventually it would be my time to go.
The events of the past few days flashed in front of my eyes. The heavenly aroma of the bakery where it all started, the warped plastic tray, the jostling for space and the claustrophobia caused by cramped quarters, the smell of plastic covers. I was just lying there awaiting my turn and hoping someone would be kind enough to ask for my opinion before they decide my fate.
I must have dozed off because the next thing I remember is being thrown onto the cold floor of this receptacle along with a few others. Before we could so much as look around, we were doused in hot water. And then began the ritual. With each dip, I was hoping it would be someone else, giving me precious extra seconds of life. But as I saw our numbers dwindle and my brethren vanish one after the other, I resigned myself to the inevitable fate.
A few minutes later, I was the only one left and knew someone was saving me for the end. I smiled wryly at the irony of that statement. How would it feel to be lifted so far above the ground ? How fast will I slide down the huge slimy dark alley. What chance do I have of escape once inside ? I tried not to imagine myself doused in acids. Even as I was contemplating other horrors, I was lifted off the ground. As I saw the entrance to my hell, my last thoughts were ... never to be born as a bread crumb and be in a soup again.
5 comments:
Too cool.. First I thought its gonna be gulab jamuns.. :)
awesome creativity!!!
very well written! really creative ... guessed that you are writing about some food for sure ... my guess was :
chocolate-chip cake (brethren disappearing into the dark alley , i thought chips of chocolate dissolving in the fresh bakery cake ...)
I thought you was describings a gol gappa! :)
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