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writetomyheart2015-11-05 03:35 pm
nachtegael.livejournal.com) wrote in writetomyheart2015-11-05 03:35 pm
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[ Team One ] Birthday Blessing
A bit more of the Amber au from last time....
Held up defiantly with a bent straw and copious amounts of clear tape, Amber’s pirate flag wobbles on top of the birthday cake. She snaps a picture of her confectionary masterpiece before the candle flames have a chance to melt to the whipped icing into waves. The auto flash washes out the color, but the pixelated image captures the jaunty angle of the cake topper perfectly.
Amber slips her phone in her pocket, watching the digital seconds accumulate on the display panel of her kitchen clock. She counts along, 11:59:37, 11:59:48, 11:59, 53, until it finally strikes midnight, the rhythmic chirping of her mother’s beloved cuckoo clock that still hangs in the front hall echoing back into the breakfast nook.
Amber closes her eyes and blows. She cracks a grin as soon as she opens them to find she’s succeeded in extinguishing all 23 candles with one gust. Jackie would proud of her lung capacity if she were here to see.
“Happy birthday,” Amber whispers. She drags her thumb through the frosting without waiting for an answer and licks it off, her eyes falling closed again as her tongue curls in relish.
She takes her time to demolish the cake, starting with the candles. The charred wicks bristle like blackened cannon fuses, marching in neat rows across the pale blue frosting. It was supposed to be yellow, but somehow she could only find the blue bottle of food coloring in the cluttered spice cabinet above the stove. She licks the colored sugar from each stub of wax and thinks of something she’s grateful for as she drops them, one by one, onto a clean napkin.
First of all she’s thankful for this house, that she still has a roof over her head even after all that’s happened. And for her cat, Methuselah, even though she was always more of a dog person. And for cake, because you can never be too grateful for cake, she thinks with a smile as digs into the chocolate layers with a clean fork.
“I’m grateful for you, too, Jinri.” Amber smiles as she wipes the frosting from the last candle on the edge of her fork. She drops the wax cylinder on top of the napkin pile. “I’m grateful you’re still at my side, for as long as you can stay.”
“No longer at your side, but all around you,” Jinri whispers. “Don’t forget, Amber. I’m everywhere, as long as you’re somewhere.”
“I can’t forget…” Amber hiccups, salt mingling with sweet in the next mouthful when she licks the tears from her sticky lips.
It’s been two years, but the memories feel as clear, as lucid, as if they happened just this morning. The images lap at the shoreline of her consciousness during waking hours, a crystalline pool Amber dives into whenever she pulls the covers over her head and lets the cool meniscus of sleep close over her.
She’s not supposed to eat sweets right before bed. Jackie would smack her for eating more than a few bites of cake this late at night, but she’s not here to witness her baby sister’s 23rd birthday party. Amber savors each bite of sponge cake until the entire roll has disappeared into her stomach, filling her all the way up to her ears with satisfaction. She won’t have any trouble falling asleep tonight, not when she’s finally able to remember the past with happy tears, even on a night she shouldn’t spend alone. Then again, Amber is never truly alone when the room is filled with the presence of those she loves.
“I’m grateful for all of you.” She thanks the framed photographs lined up on the piano with a bow and a smile, the friends and family members both with her and absent, before she carries the empty cake plate to the counter. “Goodnight, Jinri,” she wishes the gleam in the window above the sink. She blows a kiss from her fingertips and retreats to the quiet waters of her bedroom.
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dusk037
Held up defiantly with a bent straw and copious amounts of clear tape, Amber’s pirate flag wobbles on top of the birthday cake. She snaps a picture of her confectionary masterpiece before the candle flames have a chance to melt to the whipped icing into waves. The auto flash washes out the color, but the pixelated image captures the jaunty angle of the cake topper perfectly.
Amber slips her phone in her pocket, watching the digital seconds accumulate on the display panel of her kitchen clock. She counts along, 11:59:37, 11:59:48, 11:59, 53, until it finally strikes midnight, the rhythmic chirping of her mother’s beloved cuckoo clock that still hangs in the front hall echoing back into the breakfast nook.
Amber closes her eyes and blows. She cracks a grin as soon as she opens them to find she’s succeeded in extinguishing all 23 candles with one gust. Jackie would proud of her lung capacity if she were here to see.
“Happy birthday,” Amber whispers. She drags her thumb through the frosting without waiting for an answer and licks it off, her eyes falling closed again as her tongue curls in relish.
She takes her time to demolish the cake, starting with the candles. The charred wicks bristle like blackened cannon fuses, marching in neat rows across the pale blue frosting. It was supposed to be yellow, but somehow she could only find the blue bottle of food coloring in the cluttered spice cabinet above the stove. She licks the colored sugar from each stub of wax and thinks of something she’s grateful for as she drops them, one by one, onto a clean napkin.
First of all she’s thankful for this house, that she still has a roof over her head even after all that’s happened. And for her cat, Methuselah, even though she was always more of a dog person. And for cake, because you can never be too grateful for cake, she thinks with a smile as digs into the chocolate layers with a clean fork.
“I’m grateful for you, too, Jinri.” Amber smiles as she wipes the frosting from the last candle on the edge of her fork. She drops the wax cylinder on top of the napkin pile. “I’m grateful you’re still at my side, for as long as you can stay.”
“No longer at your side, but all around you,” Jinri whispers. “Don’t forget, Amber. I’m everywhere, as long as you’re somewhere.”
“I can’t forget…” Amber hiccups, salt mingling with sweet in the next mouthful when she licks the tears from her sticky lips.
It’s been two years, but the memories feel as clear, as lucid, as if they happened just this morning. The images lap at the shoreline of her consciousness during waking hours, a crystalline pool Amber dives into whenever she pulls the covers over her head and lets the cool meniscus of sleep close over her.
She’s not supposed to eat sweets right before bed. Jackie would smack her for eating more than a few bites of cake this late at night, but she’s not here to witness her baby sister’s 23rd birthday party. Amber savors each bite of sponge cake until the entire roll has disappeared into her stomach, filling her all the way up to her ears with satisfaction. She won’t have any trouble falling asleep tonight, not when she’s finally able to remember the past with happy tears, even on a night she shouldn’t spend alone. Then again, Amber is never truly alone when the room is filled with the presence of those she loves.
“I’m grateful for all of you.” She thanks the framed photographs lined up on the piano with a bow and a smile, the friends and family members both with her and absent, before she carries the empty cake plate to the counter. “Goodnight, Jinri,” she wishes the gleam in the window above the sink. She blows a kiss from her fingertips and retreats to the quiet waters of her bedroom.
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dusk037