Prompt Forty-Three- Sugar Deficit
Write a short story about someone who runs out of sugar in their house. It can be as long or short as you want, but the plot needs to stay on topic.
The annoying buzzing of my alarm wakes me from my deep sleep. I slam my hand on what I think is the alarm but miss. My hand slams against the corner of my night table, making my fingers numb out with pain. Begrudgingly, I peel open my heavy eyelids, locate the alarm and turn it off.
I start to drift, my thoughts fading as I fall back to sleep when I remember my busy day. This springs me right to life. I jump from the bed and rush into the bathroom. I turn the shower on and then like usual, head downstairs to get something to eat while the water heats up.
I grab a yogurt and throw a k-cup in the keurig before I go back upstairs. I quickly shower, dress and grab everything I need for this interview. I'm a writer, so to say I'm not used to being up and at 'em would be an understatement. Add in the fact that I'm always late and I'm a walking disaster.
My laptop with my brand new, perfectly printed manuscript are tucked in my bag and I head downstairs while sliding my flats on. I check the clock above the microwave oven and see that I have five minutes to spare. I'm on my A game today.
Taking my time and breathing a little, I grab the newly made coffee and fill it with cream. Call me weird, but I drink my coffee light and sweet. And by light and sweet, I mean that I throw a regular sized cup into a HUGE cup and then fill it with cream and sugar. It's probably awful for me, but the sugar and caffeine are about all that get me through some days.
I reach for my sugar jar, noticing that it feels empty, but head back to my cup of nearly white coffee. I open the lid and pour the sugar into my cup, but nothing comes out. Nothing at all. I turn the jar towards me and look inside. Nothing. Nothing at all. My heart thuds in my chest, but I don't panic. I usually have some Dunkin Donuts packets around somewhere.
I rift through drawers, search my purse, look in the refrigerator, even though I know it's a lost cause. I'm freaking out of sugar. I check the clock. I've now lost the five extra minutes I had, and am down another three. I'm completely screwed.
I grab my disgusting cup of coffee and my bag and run to the car. I throw everything in, then myself and speed to the center of town where I'm supposed to meet an agent. I'm only five minutes late, my driving making up for the three I lost. I look like a mess, I'm exhausted but I don't care. I'll figure it out.
With my cup in hand, I enter the office building and tell my name to the receptionist at the desk. She looks nice, her eyebrows well done, quirked. She's got long brown hair that I envy. My brown hair doesn't sparkle like that. Wait, can hair sparkle? Whatever.
"I have kind of a strange question," I tell the woman, rolling my eyes at myself. "Do you happen to have a kitchen around here? Or like some sugar? I ran out this morning and you have no idea how badly I need my coffee to survive." I ramble on.
"Sorry. We don't," she answers. I frown but let it go. Surely this interview will happen fast then I can get the hell out of here and find me some sugar. I sit on an uncomfortable light blue chair and wait for the agent to greet me.
I look down at my full mug. Cream has sugar in it, right? So maybe it isn't so bad. I put the mug to my lips and sniff in. It smells like normal coffee. I take a sip and have to refrain from gagging. It tastes like nasty watered down milk. I put the cup beside me, refusing to look at it.
My day is completely ruined. I blame sugar.
© Taylor Lavati 2017
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"For the Love of Ash" by Taylor Lavati was a rare 5-star read for me. I honestly find many typical romances rather dull and predictable. This was not the case at all here; there was nothing average about the romance, overall storyline, and the long list of supporting characters."
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