Here is the link for this week's Talking in Your Sleep Ink Well Prompt
Last week, I started writing a story for last week's prompt but didn't get a chance to finish. So here is my late entry for the Dish prompt.
Yesterday’s left-over sausages cooking in Yorkshire pudding batter filled the air of the tiny kitchen and spread out into the open dining room. Fresh onions simmered on the stove with herbs and gravy while hungry children ran about the house in various directions. Some ran in the door from outside; tracking mud in with their shoes. A little boy ran in the opposite direction while laughing and carrying a doll, as his sister ran behind him crying. A little girl stood on her tippy-toes, trying to glimpse into the pot that heated on the stove. And just as she lifted her hand up to touch the pot and burn her hand, she was knocked out of the way by her two brothers horsing around. You might be wondering where their mother is. She was outside leading the cow to the pasture. If you looked outside, you’d see another little boy hanging from the front door that swung open above the steps going into the house. His arms held the top of the door while his sister grasped the back of his legs to try to pull him down. It was a typical boisterous night in the household and it was also a full moon. And though The Dish didn’t enjoy the rowdy behavior of the children, he still thought it better to be out of the cupboard. It was one step closer to escape.
The table had already been set with a few plates and some light exposed the cupboard as the cabinet door was opened. A pair of small (and filthy) hands wrapped around a stack of plates, touching The Dish, about to scoop them up.
“I’ll be going out of the cupboard afterall” thought The Dish, with excitement. When the tiny hands realized it was too large of a grasp, they let go of The Dish and grabbed the plates stacked above him. His despair was restored as the cupboard was sloppily left to creak itself shut and darkness ensued. Only it didn’t shut all the way. The Dish could still see out the small opening of the cupboard and into the dining room which was lit brightly.
The Dish listened to forks and spoons scrape across plates while seeing gravy spill as it was sloppily passed across the table by clumsy hands. The mother at the table helped the youngest son cut his sausage, not noticing another son flinging a forkful of roasted carrots at his sister. Their little dog walked around the table taking advantage of the children’s clumsy eating habits; leaving lick marks on the table, floor and chairs. He watched as the children haphazardly scooped the Yorkshire bread and brought the fork to their mouths; fully anticipating the fall of loose morsels. Some of the children shooed him away while some invited him over to give him a bite of food under the table. The family went about their chaotic meal with cheerful banter among the siblings and occasional scolding from their outnumbered mother.
Little Charlie finished his meal first and pushed his chair out from under the table to get up and go toward the oddly-shaped corner cabinet in the heel of the house.
“Look what I found in the woods the other day,” he walked back proudly toward his family with a violin in his hands. Some of the other children stood up to grab it from him but he held it up away from them and began playing out of tune. The other kids stood back and watched him in awe as though it were a performance. He continued to play his own improvised melody as the other kids laughed and danced.
It was as though the music notes from the violin floated out of the leather boot-shaped house and spread out into the woods, leading a path for the rightful owner of the violin to come retrieve it. A paw stuck under the front door and gave a firm shake. No one heard the guest at the door and the violin kept playing. The guest stood on it’s hind legs and used it’s front paws to claw the door. This only slightly opened the door since the door hadn’t been closed all the way. The family turned their heads as they saw the door open slightly, but no one came in. They looked around at each other. Finally, since he was already standing, Charlie walked over to the door to peer outside.
“It’s a cat,” he said cheerfully.
“Oh, it probably wants some food,” said the mother. “Adelaide, go grab a plate.” The little girl stood up and walked to the kitchen. She opened the cupboard and grabbed The Dish.
“Here,” said her brother Jasper, handing her a spoon that had already been licked by both him and the dog. She scraped some sausage scraps onto The Dish and set it outside.
As the cat licked up the last few bits of gravy, The Dish looked over at The Spoon still sitting next to him. There were no words needed, as they both knew what the other was thinking. It was their moment of a lifetime. They grabbed each other’s hands and ran away toward the forest.
