Morning Crack-up

in flashfiction •  5 years ago 

What set me off was that little mango-pyramid. It was lying there on the kitchen floor. A polyhedron of terror.

The morning had started out great. I got up early, meditated, showered. I put steel cut oats in the instant pot. I was at my desk writing and it was still dark out.

I had our window open to the street. There were these birds that sounded like typewriters. One launched into the air and landed on the top of a tree, lifting its wings up and down like a conductor.

I posted my story, refilled my coffee and took it outside, sitting on the steps in front of our building. The sun was now rising, and I waited to feel that sense of well-being one gets after sharing one’s work.

But those good vibes never came.

Instead I became preoccupied with the sidewalk. They’d filled in the ruptured sidewalk with tar, and it was done in such a way that it looked like a black knife was embedded in the cement.

When I bent down to inspect the black knife of tar, I caught a glimpse of my eye-wrinkles reflected in the lenses of my sunglasses. A ginger man then jogged by with five-finger shoes. I thought I better go inside and eat breakfast.

But first I double-checked my post, and I was glad I did; it was a disaster. I’d gone over the allotted character limit so my ending was cut off. My line breaks weren’t acknowledged because I forgot to copy and paste the invisible symbol. I quickly deleted the post, shortened it, and then reposted it using the invisible symbol.

And we’ve arrived at the aforementioned mango-pyramid.

I had gone into the kitchen to slice mango for the oats, and the pyramidal piece fell onto the tiled floor. For the life of me, I couldn’t pick it up. It kept sliding through my fingers. Its shadow elongated by the sun cutting in sideways.

I looked at my hand. It seemed limited. I thought of the claw crane in that rigged arcade game, the mango-pyramid like the toy falling through its weak grasp.

But I caught a break. The shot glass of toothpicks on the counter. I snatched one and stabbed the mango, sliding it slowly into the orange flesh.

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