Thursday, December 13, 2007

Story #33 - Cookie, by Ivan Goldensohn

Today we have a new story by Ivan Goldensohn, a writer who goes to Maryland. He is a good man, and is always good to read. He is only the third writer to attempt an LOBD story! Follow his example and submit!

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Cookie
by Ivan Goldensohn

I wanted to live in the land of bad decisions. In order to live in the land of bad decisions, you have to make some bad decisions.

At first all I wanted was a cookie, not just any cookie, but a less then one day old chewy little bit of deliciousness sitting in a glass jar on top of the fridge. Granted I am only about five foot five, the fridge is a serious obstacle.
In order to get the cookie I opened the fridge door, and started to climb. My foot found a hold on a large jar of grey poupon and I reached up, grabbing the top of the fridge. I pulled my foot and placed it between a bottle of Tabasco and some unidentified leftover, and reached for the cookies, but the shelf I was standing on collapsed, causing me to fall, grasping at the cookies but only knocking them further away, and making half of the things in the door of the fridge fall and shatter on the ground. Luckily, I caught myself with my non-cookie grabbing hand on the top of the fridge, and this was how I found myself hanging from the top of the fridge above a colorful mess of condiments and broken glass, reds and yellows and blacks curdling together on the floor. As I am already this far, and my back route is blocked by the condiments avalanche, my only option is up, fortunately the same direction as the cookie. I try the next shelf up, and manage to get up higher before this shelf also collapses. There two shelves left, so I have to be careful with them, they may be my only chance for that cookie. I push up on the second to last shelf, pushing myself up and lunging for the cookie, but the smooth glass slides away from my hand and falls off the back of the fridge, disappearing from sight.

With great effort I swing my leg up over the top of the open fridge door, at this point my tummy is freezing, and hoist myself up completely onto the top of the fridge. Looking over the back edge of the fridge into the dusty darkness i can see the cookie jar wedged between the fridge coils and the wall about halfway down. I can't reach it with my arms, so I start to lean down the gap, sticking my head and upper body awkwardly down and trying to reach the cookie-jar, but its too far. I push myself further, straining against the fridge in order to make room for my body, but the fridge is solid and wont move. Using my knees and palms and heave back and the fridge leans, and then tips, and finally crashes to the floor, with me clinging to coils on its toppling back, watching the cookie-jar, now freed, falling as i watch helplessly to crash on the filthy ground, three lonely cookies, freed from their prison falling outwards and landing in the dirt, at the same time that the fridge crashes resoundingly onto the floor, and I with it.

Laying like a wounded soldier on the field of battle, atop my well insulated altar, surrounding by multicolored offerings, I pull myself to the edge, reach down, and pull a hapless cookie from a pile of blackish dust bunnies, and take a bite.

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