This story was written in response to a new writing challenge I posted in the Stop Writing Alone community and on the Stop Writing Alone Instagram account. I am calling the challenge #fictioninfeb. I don’t know if I will be sharing daily stories, but here is the first one anyway.
This story is a 1-2 minute read.
The Cake Had Layers
I bought the cake from the most expensive bakery in town. I knew it was your favorite and I couldn’t wait to see your face when we opened the box, cut the slices and you took your first bite.
But that didn’t happen.
When the cake was distributed, you politely declined, told your aunt you were working out and couldn’t afford dessert in the middle of it all.
I should have known right then. I should have peeled back the veil of vanity and seen straight through to the truth staring me right in the face. You were looking for something else to taste, to feel, to live, rather than the party we thought was for you.
I bought the cake from the most expensive bakery in town when you couldn’t afford dessert. Our life ledger was severely out of balance and neither of us knew who was writing the checks or who was cashing them. The overdraft fees of doubt, mistrust and hurt were piling up and we didn’t know if the next envelope in the mail held our paychecks or pink slips.
It doesn’t matter how often I watch The Great British Bake Off I still can’t taste like Paul Hollywood. Mr. Hollywood would have smelled the uncertainty, insecurity, and debt hidden within the layers while I floated away on the sweetness of the fruit filling, I was enchanted by the delicate decor on the surface. I missed every nuance of the bake.
I don’t buy any more cakes from the most expensive bakery in town, but I still walk by there sometimes. I saw you there this morning. You were with someone new, but eating that same layered cake. You were smiling.
I guess you can afford it now.
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I wrote this quickly (as I know another prompt is coming tomorrow), but spent almost as much time going through titles as I did drafting the story itself! How important is the title when it comes to your reading pleasure of a short story?
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The inspiration
If you are interested in the challenge that inspired this micro fiction, you can read the post I shared with the Stop Writing Alone community about it:
You can also see it and follow the word prompt releases each day on the @stopwritingalone instagram, if you are into that kind of thing: