Bread, Tea, Life

A steaming loaf of bread.

For the last year, Marco, a UX designer by profession and a baker by hobby, has been fighting forgetfulness. Not sure how it started. Maybe there was a medical reason. He’d lay in bed thinking a tumor was cooking in the corner of his brain, slowly degenerating his memory. Closer to a stroke with each day. He didn’t even know if brain tumors and strokes had to do anything with one another. He just knew both were bad and didn’t want to know more.

Or maybe it was all due to alcohol and cigarettes in his younger years. He used to drink and smoke heavily until the bad habits caught up with him at his friend’s wedding three years ago. He woke up with a hangover, but it was a different type of hangover. His head felt like a malfunctioned computer that worked at 50% of its capabilities. His mind would turn on and off as he was waiting for breakfast. Then, after a fourth time going to breakfast to douse his face in cold water, his brain turned on entirely. He could almost feel the full power of consciousness kicking in. The probability that it might not happen next time scared him.

Or maybe it was due to that tick bite he got two years ago. Two weeks later, it turned out he had lyme disease. It was discovered early, and he drank antibiotics. But… you never know.

Or maybe, actually, most likely, it was because the sorry excuse for a human that was his wife was driving him crazy. Constantly nagging, never was everything fine, always something wrong. And it was him that needed fixing, never her. Or if she needed fixing, it was because of something he had done. Even when what he was doing was good. 

For example. Back when he didn’t have a sustainable income, life was bad because she was carrying the financial weight. Then, when the tables turned, and he became the one bringing in the money, life was bad because she felt useless. 

Then, all the diseases. One day, it’s breast cancer. Then it’s leucemia, only to be suspicious of an unknown bone disease.

Next, the mental issues. Bipolarity, anxiety, panic attacks, depression. Marco had no problem with any of those; he was there to help. What ticked him off was the nerve to complain about his behavior when he had a bad week. It was understandable if she was in a rud, but god forgive if it was the other way around. Then, he was a selfish and cold-blooded bastard.

All of that was the reason for his panic attacks. Marco has never had them before as long as he could remember. Then, he’d get sudden panic attacks while waiting for her to finish her shopping or while on a bus. It would happen out of the blue. He’d have a perfect day, then a sudden surge in the brain and panic. The result was panicking about a possible next panic attack. He couldn’t remember if this was before or after his friend’s wedding. It was a long time ago—too many events to remember the exact time. 

Finally, the tea. The apartment was full of tea. Green tea, black tea, earl gray, matcha, camomile, desert delight, 1001 nights, the gouse flights. All these general and random names. 

And ok, ok… it was fine, nothing wrong with someone enjoying tea. But she’d buy one (god knows it would be outside her budget), drink it once, and then leave it in the cupboard. Like a lunatic collector, but instead of LP records, it was tea. 

Anyways, Marco stopped for a second. What was he doing again? It was always like this. He’d be doing one thing, start thinking about her the next, get angry, and then forget about closing the fridge door. 

He looked at the still-hot loaf of bread. He took the knife and cut into it. Steam was dancing from it and mixing with the kitchen—a perfect concoction of tasteless air and oven-fresh pleasantness. 

Then he looked at a small bottle next to it. 

Was he really going to poison her? What a crazy thought. He still couldn’t believe how he managed to get his hands on the poison. The poison needed to have no flavor. He didn’t want to jeopardize the bread. 

But could he do it? Now that the moment has arrived. Could he kill… no… Could he kill another person? His wife, out of all people. He wasn’t that type of person. The ones you read about in the news. They are always ugly, weird, and either too thin or too fat. He wasn’t that. He liked people, and people liked him. 

Unlike the fat and the thin, he had a reason. She brought him to this point. He’d never do it for pleasure. His action was justifiable.

He cut two pieces of bread and put them on a plate. He opened the fridge and took some ham and cheese. Next, he cut both ham and cheese into fine finger-food pieces and decorated them next to the bread. The fridge light helped him see better.

He picked up the plate, took a deep breath, and walked towards the living room.

He stopped.

Wait. Wait, wait. Did he put the poison in the dough before baking the bread? He remembered pondering whether to lace the bread before or after. It made sense to do it before, but what if the heat neutralized the poison? Unlikely, but it could happen. 

He should’ve used more than a few drops. What’s the worst that could happen if he didn’t? He chuckled. She’d die even more? Heh.

“Snap out of it, Marco! Did you put the poison or not?” 

He grabbed the bottle and brought it to his eye level. He jigged the small brown bottle to see if there was less poison than before. No idea. He pulled the cork and smelled the poison. No smell. What was he expecting?

“Damn fridge! Always forget to close it.” Marco slammed the fridge door.

What to do? What to do? Maybe he should roll with it, and if it works, it works. If not, he’ll try again. No. That means he’d have to hide the poison somewhere in the apartment until the opportunity arrives. He couldn’t live with the stress. Not with all the cleaning she does every single day. 

Bake another bread? But what if she arrives while he’s baking the second bread, and the first bread is already on the table? How would he explain that?

His gaze stopped at the tea cupboard. He grabbed the chamomile, mint, lavender, rosemary, and clove mix. Turned on the stove to boil water. 250 ml exactly. He shoved a teaspoon into the mix and combined it with water. Then, he waited for 5 minutes. The tea was ready. Just don’t forget.