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Set your story in a kitchen, either early in the day or late at night.

Posted in Short Story on Sep 27, 2024

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✍️ 80 stories

The Dinner

Submitted to Contest #270

The kitchen filled with the smell of cooking as the meatballs browned. I was very tired and not in the mood to cook. My feet and back hurt. The meatballs burnt. I didn't care.Would it bother him? Would he notice? Maybe he'd grumble about the burnt edges, but I wondered what would upset him more tonight: the overcooked meatballs or what was going on beneath the surface? I turned down the heat, trying to save the dish, though I knew it was too late.I sat down for what felt like the first time all day and took a moment to think about it. After ...

41 likes 23 comments 23
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The Puppy Pokey

Submitted to Contest #270

The Puppy Pokey“Life is unfair.”                                                                                      ...

36 likes 21 comments 21
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Dancing with a Dandy

Submitted to Contest #270

Dancing with a DandyWhat an age to be alive! A time when swains can sway with the ballad of transposing their daily life upon romance. Modernity, having invented commercialism, offers a variety of means for one to pluck and choose what lover seems most desirable to them. If pondered over, dating applications are akin to pottering through aisles in a supermarket. The discrepancy being that the purchase here is what divertissement is gained, fire is eroticised, or love is blossomed. The genius of it all is how, sans leaving home, one can twidd...

34 likes 14 comments 14
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Corn Dogs in the Kitchen

Submitted to Contest #270

“Mom, I really don’t know what to do anymore.”Every cell in his body vibrated wildly. His fingers felt heavy and cold. He reached up to touch his face, and it was too warm. He unclenched his jaw and gave a deep sigh, trying to let out some of the jitters bouncing around inside.“What’s wrong?”“I can’t seem to make the right decision,” he said with exasperation. It felt good to get out, like letting steam free from a covered pot boiling too hot. She waited patiently for more, so he continued.“Everything I try leads to failure. I'm sorry I coul...

28 likes 12 comments 12
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Tick Tock

Submitted to Contest #270

(TW - This story contains sensitive content.)Whispering, “One, two, three, four,” she dumped the scoops into the coffeemaker. “Fuck it.” She added another scoop and flipped on the switch.The wave of nausea hit her as the pot started hissing. Grabbing hold of the counter, she closed her eyes. It was there, no doubt about it. No second guessing if it was her imagination or maybe something she ate. “Damn it.” She wiped her forehead, which was covered in a clammy film of sweat. Daryl’s thick snoring was th...

28 likes 16 comments 16
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An American Dream

Submitted to Contest #270

I have a picture on my kitchen wall that talks to me and tells me stories. It shows a horse and buggy with its faceless driver traveling down cobblestoned streets. The picture appears repeatedly on my patterned gold wallpaper. At first when I heard it talk, early one morning, I thought I was going crazy, or was not yet awake and still dreaming. I live in my grandparents’ house, a house that my carpenter grandfather built long ago. Grandma would be 112 years old if she were alive today. My grandfather was slightly older than her.&nb...

26 likes 15 comments 15
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The Egg Substitution

Submitted to Contest #270

Fiona Wesley dreaded having the conversation she needed to have. Driving to Goldie's apartment, she devised ways to break the shocking news. She trod carefully up the unlit stairs. By the time Fiona knocked on the door, she had no idea how she'd broach the difficult subject, but time was of the essence."Hi, Fiona." They embraced. "Come on in," said Goldie. "I hope you don't mind. I'm baking." Goldie led the way to the small kitchen. Goldie stood in the kitchen near the mixing bowl and measuring cup on the counter. Fiona took a seat on the ba...

22 likes 8 comments 8
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Knight's Choice

Submitted to Contest #270

Soup splattered across the kitchen floor as Iliya’s wooden spoon clattered into the heavy iron cauldron. Just a pine cord popping in the hearth, where she’d been preparing a late supper for the royal family. “Aught well?” Laelan asked from where he sat near the ingle. The armor he’d been oiling lay in a forgotten heap before him. Just the two of them in the large kitchens this evening; she’d dismissed her staff immediately after dinner, given the misadventures of the day. She turned toward him, the shimmer of flame off her pewter ewers match...

21 likes 12 comments 12
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If the Universe Were a Kitchen

Submitted to Contest #270

If the universe had a kitchen, it would be open night and day. In it there would be a book of recipes. The list of ingredients would be endless. Dark matter, cosmic rays, and celestial dust. There’d be a recipe for everything. Big recipes for the planets and small ones to make hurricanes and rainbows. The stars that twinkle in the sky are the sprinkles atop a vast chocolate cupcake. Swirling like cinnamon rolled into pastry dough are the galaxies. At the beginning of the book, you can find the universe’s recipe for generating gravity. At the...

20 likes 9 comments 9
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In Comes The Bogeyman

Submitted to Contest #270

Granny’s in the kitchen doing a little stitching, in comes The Bogeyman and pushes Granny out…Needle in hand, workbox on the table, Adeline Cruikshank - Ads to her friends – recalled the old skipping rhyme of her schooldays. Hazel and Ruth - polio victims so it was always them - rope stretched between them, turning it up and over the pigtailed head of whoever’s ‘go’ it happened to be. Whoosh, skiff, whoosh skiff, fifteen jumped beats. White knee-high socks and buckle-my-gravel-scuffed-shoe, grey-pleated skirt a-swishing, till the word was ‘o...

20 likes 13 comments 13
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Making Tortillas with Mom

Submitted to Contest #270

Roxy sat in the living room playing with her dolls.  She told her dad goodbye as he left to go to work at his night job at his company.Setting her dolls down she ran into the kitchen just as she heard her mom humming in the kitchen to the radio.  “There you are!”  Her Mom said.  “Did you come to help me?  Remember that I told you your uncles are coming over tonight for dinner?”  Her Mom said.  “Oh yay!”  Roxy clapped her hands together.  She remembered it was Saturday night and it was he...

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The Surefire Recipe

Submitted to Contest #270

The Surefire RecipeHer mother yelled at her, “Susanna! Why can’t you be a good little girl? You know your brother is such a good little boy always.” She shook her head and began wiping the milk from the floor. Susanna hid in her princess tent next to the television in the living room. She hated it when Mommy yelled at her, which was often lately. It was always because of what Charlie did, but it made it look like Susanna had done it by the time Mommy looked or noticed.“Mommy, what does it take to be a good little boy or girl?” Susanna asked ...

15 likes 4 comments 4
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Cheap Wine and Woodchips

Submitted to Contest #270

The chicken nuggets simmer beneath the microwave light. I watch as candle wax drips onto the countertop in a mind-numbing descent, illuminating the kitchen in shadows. Beth perches on the head of Dad’s recliner, rocking back and forth til the sun sets and all she can see is her own reflection staring back at her.            The microwave beeps slicing through the news anchor on the TV.           “Dinner!” I call. “Turn of the tv...

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Meaty

Submitted to Contest #270

Ah, a brand new slab of fresh meat. It took a lot of time and energy getting it too here and deserves my full attention to make it perfect, or at least tastier than the last time. I’ve gotten myself a hook to hang the meat don’t know exactly what this is for, I’ve heard the term curing being mentioned but for me it's just an easy way to admire my catch. The word reminds me of healing but there ain’t no doctor that can heal this creature. As I place the meat on the hook a pool of blood begins to form and congeal at my feet, this is a messy bu...

15 likes 7 comments 7
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The Recipe

Submitted to Contest #270

Love is messy. Some people can’t live without it, the chaos and the confusion, and they will give everything for love. Charlie never understood the fuss, content to work and find fulfillment in her friendships. “You just haven’t met the right person, Char,” Her best friend Mary rinsed a plum in the sink. “Do you want anything else while I'm in here?”She yanked another eggroll from the box. “No thanks Mar, I’m good."“Are you really, though?" Mary sank into the armchair and pried the tag from the wrinkled skin of her fruit. "You need some...

15 likes 2 comments 2
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