Mondays are always slow. But at least it is the last week before the time change. The rain clouds aren’t helping though. Still, we must push on with the day. So while the coffee brews, lets get to the prompt. Timers at the ready and off we go…
Not sure where this is going, but I kind of like the character that is starting to develop. Needs work clearly, but I think he could develop into someone with the right story.
Monday, October 30th: Rice fell out of the hole in the bag, hitting the counter like hard rain.
Rice fell out of the hole in the bag, hitting the counter like hard rain. I lowered the bag immediately hoping to control the spillage, but it was too late. The hole was too large. Resigned I picked up a bowl and after clearing the spilled rice from a section of the counter, I placed the bowl down. I slipped one hand under the bag and pressed against the hole with the flat of my palm while I lifted the bag off the counter with the other hand. I swiftly lifted the bag into the bowl.
‘Air lifted to safety,’ I told myself as I brushed rice off of my palm.
“Too much news,” I told myself. With the war attacking civilian settlements more than military bases at this point the words air lifted to safety were repeated far too much for my liking.
I shook the thought away and began to gather up the spilled rice. I used one hand to sweep the grains off the counter and into my hand. I then emptied my cupped hand into the bowl. The rice made different sounds as it hit either bag or bowl on its way down. My meal planning for the week heavily featured rice and I didn’t want any of it wasted. While I could bend my budget to replace the rice, I knew that time was more a factor than money this week.
I would have no time to pick up a replacement bag. Or to replace anything. If I burned a meal, I would be eating burnt food, if I lost rice then there would be less rice for me to eat.
Luckily the counter was clean and dry. I wiped it down before I went to get this weeks groceries and it dried while I was shopping. I made certain to gather all of the spilled rice and then went to get container to hold it for the week. The container I had was long and tall, designed more for spaghetti than rice, but it was empty and clean. It would do for the week.
Deciding the rice bag was a loss I took a pair of scissors and slit it open all the way, spilling rice into the bowl in a shushing wave of white noise. I tossed the plastic and took off the lid from the plastic canister. In order to prevent further spillage I put a wide funnel in the top of the container before pouring the rice. I had no desire to run around the rest of my day off searching for rice that was scattered throughout my small kitchen.
With the rice transferred, I put the lid back on the container and put the container in the pantry. There was a relief to see it there, safely stored and causing no further problems. I took a deep breath and put away the rest of the groceries for the week. They, thankfully, gave me no further problems.
My meals were basic this week and mostly consisted of rice and things that could be made while the rice cooked and then mixed in with the rice. It was going to be a rough week and I didn’t want to think about food. I would be exhausted when I cam home and I knew dinner needed to be made on autopilot.
Ten til Midnight 