What's cooking? -NaNoWriMo

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Avatar for wakeupkitty
2 years ago
Topics: Writing, 2021, Story, Nanowrimo, November, ...

"I never learn how to cook," I screamed. It made me furious I was forced to learn all those things a girl had to know a long time ago. At least a girl that does not want to end up alone.

"You want to stay single? Well, do you?"

"If you think you can stay with us you are wrong young lady," dad added to it.

I frowned and thought about his words. For the rest of my life in this house, my folks would get older... It didn't sound that bad at all. To be honest I liked the idea. I liked it much better than being someone's slave. No matter if my future partner was male or female... both sounded terrible to me. Was there a reason why they want me out of the house? It was normal for parents and offspring to share the same house.

"There's no need to learn how to cook. You know even water is boiling over with me. Let the kitchen robot do it. You bought her for a reason didn't you?"

"You have to be prepared," mom said while dad waited at the kitchen table for his homemade meal.
Homemade meals. I couldn't even remember I ever had one. All meals were ordered and delivered at home by pressing one button at the panel in the hallway. True it always tasted the same but it was better than the tube food my parents raised me with during the first years of my life. What had changed?

My dad waited patiently for the moment I served his food or real food as he called it. It wasn't dinner for real. Not such a meal I had seen in old movies. Movies where people visited restaurants for pleasure. They seemed to spend an awful lot of time at those places and called it being out. Out of what was a miracle to me since they still sat inside. All those dining people shared one dining room together. They chatted, ordered food, drank, fought. At times they even threw their plates with food at each other. I always wondered how it would be to live in such a world but I never asked myself if a person was preparing those meals and where the ingredients came from. 

Daily meals had never been important to us but suddenly I was forced to learn things that no one in our society ever mentioned or thought could be important. Suddenly I had to learn how to cook! After my parents had opened a secret door, I never knew about, in our house.

"Times have changed dear. This is our pantry," mom said.

The pantry was as big as our house if not bigger. It was stored with items I had never seen in my life. Jars, cans, packages that contained what she called food.

"What is this, who started it?"

"My parents, your grandparents did. Most of it is food. Real food. Once people grew it on the soil well, most of it. Look at these old kitchen tools, the cooking books." She sounded enthusiastic. "Everything you need is here. It can not be too difficult to prepare something good out of this."

"Why me? Let the kitchen robot do it or do it yourself. I'm sure your parents told you how to cook something decent out of this, this..."

I gestured around me like a wild man locked up in a cage although my cage wasn't small or empty.

"There's even a stove," mom said enthusiastically ignoring my suggestion to do it herself. "You can bake a pie or some cookies just like grandma did for me."

"It's safe here, the pantry is in a bunker. No one knows about it and we better keep it that way," dad said.

He started to remove sheets, moved some piled up stuff and directed me into the dining room as he called it.

"Leave that kitchen bot outside if you go in here. That bot... that bot is no good dear. Promise me you will  never use it."

I didn't promise but gave him a nod while I looked away.

"It has begun," mom said and I couldn't help noticing the strange look in her eyes. The beginning, whatever it was, resulted in opening the hidden pantry and my cooking lessons. Lessons I was sure about I did not need. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever.

"I am still waiting," dad said happily. The man, my dad had courage. He didn't sniff at what I prepared but ate what I served. Old, burned, tasteless, hard to chew or swallow or even smelly he finished his plate and encouraged me to do it again. If not today then tomorrow.

"It's late breakfast," dad grinned as I handed him over half a cup of tea. I did boil the water but since it took ages I had left and once I came back...

"It's all there's left. You could have called me or kept an eye on it."

"I could but I didn't. You are the one cooking."

"I could have burned the place down."

"You could but you didn't. Next time you better stay around. Look how wet everything is. Can get rusty dear you better wipe them off. After saving them all these years better take good care of them. Thanks for the late breakfast."

For a moment he seemed to be lost in thoughts. Next, he observed the once canned bread I tried to toast and shove it into his mouth with closed eyes. How could he swallow it at one piece?

My second attempt wasn't any better although I believe the tea I cooked looked and tasted better. I had no idea what the brown hard pieces my mother called tea were but it was fascinating to see how they got soft and changed into what she said were leaves. Leaves I only knew from books. Trees had leaves and she told me bushes and herbs have too. She showed me drawings of leaves in a kitchen book and warned me to never show them to anyone or take it out of the pantry.

"The walls have eyes and ears."

It was the first time she said these words to me and for a second I saw the fear in her eyes. I never realized there was something to fear about. We lived in a safe, secured area. The camera's inside and personal drones outside protected us. Our city and home were comfortable, clean and one of the best places to be. Everyone said so and like we all know what they all say is true. There was no reason to doubt or to leave the great zone we, the fortunate ones, lived in. This text was projected on the screens and it was the first text I saw as I opened my eyes.

Of course, there were some issues but they were rare and always solved within 40 minutes. The only stress experienced could be caused by the morning traffic on the net. At least that was what I thought.
Once out of bed the city started the day by giving orders to make the lives of citizens easier, faster, more comfortable.
Light, water, the temperature of the house, the daily personal health check, robots being activated and each other order given increased the peddling.

"The net can get overloaded if there's too much traffic and if users aren't patient enough," the government announced for the fourth time in a week, "Please, do not keep giving the same order by hitting the button more than once. Be patient!"

In a way, it sounded logical to me although I couldn't help noticing how my parents looked at each other and frowned at the same time.

Late at night, I woke up to an unknown crackling and sizzling sound outside of my cabin. I waited unsure what to do. After 9 p.m. we all should stay inside our cabin, city orders, safety orders.

"What do you think?" I heard some whisper after a longer time. I felt sleepy and not sure if the voice sounded familiar. Was it dad? I turned to my other side.

"It's hard to get by but it's enough, it should be enough and if not for all of us you know what to do."

I tried to gather my thoughts, repeated the keywords that should help me to remember. Cooking lessons, pantry, the walls, eyes, ears, traffic... the sizzling continued... patience, voices, not enough, cooking, secret, eyes... The sizzling made me fall asleep.


NaNoWriMo started again. I have no idea what to write about on this day November 1st. Most likely I won't write 20K words or more but I do hope to write this month daily.

The prompts used:

- boiling over
- something good has begun
- late breakfast
- second attempt
- morning traffic
- it's hard to get by

#kittywu #story #freewrite #writing #november #novel #creativewriting

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Avatar for wakeupkitty
2 years ago
Topics: Writing, 2021, Story, Nanowrimo, November, ...

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