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Creative Nonfiction Funny Thriller

It all started around the 5th of June, 2029. Nothing about this day gave any semblance of dire shenanigans on the horizon. Then again when does anything odd or in this case dangerous ever give a hint of its arrival. Truly this day was anything but stellar, the city was alive and bustling. A cacophony of vehicles and business taking place echos all around as the Sun sitting high aloft a cloudless sky.

One could say it was a near perfect summer afternoon. One would also say that person was sorely mistaken.

I entered my downtown apartment, call it a glorified broom closet. Despite the size it does surprisingly come loaded with all the essentials. A quaint little lavatory hidden behind a veiled curtain resides in the corner opposite to my tattered hammock. The kitchen, with its pathetic array of appliances and a glorified cup for a sink used up the remaining space. Like previously mentioned, A glorified broom closet. I go to the pantry to acquire that classic afternoon snack. The almighty everything bagel. With bagel in hand I spin around to notice in shock that absence of my toaster. One can not eat a bagel un-toasted, the mere thought screams of blasphemes of old.

Most would move past this peculiar circumstance and go out and grab a new toaster. I for one am a procrastinator and left that for the me of tomorrow to handle as I opened the wee stove door and tossed my bagel slices within it. The mouse like wail that crept from my lips haunts me to this day. As I turned to go use the Lou I see my toaster sitting underneath my hammock. Collecting my nerves I go and pick it up, as I am doing so I inspect it for any clues as to how it was moved. Seeing only a few scuffs I proceed to place the toaster back in its rightful spot.

With my small personal realm back in a state of order I go to yet again heed natures call. I grab hold of my floral blanket sheet door to find my toaster on my porcelain throne, this time with the orange glow of heated wires coming from its infernal slots. I go to grab hold of its red painted exterior to a painful realization of thermal dynamics. obtaining my dirty llama oven mitts I regained control of what I only seen as a used Hamilton beach toaster up until just half past six.

Upon placing this toaster turned radiator in a safe spot to keep it from burning my place down. When the smell of burning nonetheless took hold of my senses. Burning?!?! Bagels!!!! I hastily take two steps to grab the mirco-stove door to be assaulted by black smoke as my bagels lay there coal black. As tears caused by the smoke flow down my cheeks I look back upon my toaster, now visible heat waves can be seen coming off it. The dull orange glow now more intense. Anger begins to swell up within...Nay!! it boiled up, slowly and steadily. What has brought my toaster to such malevolence?? What dreaded malice has sought refuge within its bright red shell??

I lay my charred bagels to rest in the organics bin and sat in my lawn chair in distraught over my current situation. For the next few hours it was a mind numbing staring contest. a battle of unyielding wills, that of mine, backed by human evolution than that of my demonic toaster. I remember awaken to another viscous lesson of thermal dynamics as I find my hand was now in one of the slots. The toaster has begun his attempt to toast me to death. locked in a grip of fear unbeknownst to me I was left to just watch as I heard my skin to bubble and the fledgling wisps of what will be smoke if left any longer. With the spark of flame visible I gain clarity enough to remove my hand and also boot the toaster away. I grab hold of my lawn chair and fold it to be easily swung with just my good hand. With a raucous rap track in my head i let loose the pent up rage of an angsty tween.

The once Hamilton beach ruby red double sliced toaster now rests at my feet in a dozen pieces. The orange glow has be extinguished. Once and finally order was brought to my small apartment. I go grab myself another bagel. Plop it in the oven and to my surprise answer natures call. I emerged from my corner to shriek at the sight of my toaster. Once again whole. Once again resuming its burning rage. The two sliders bent as if scowling at my past actions. Passing his vile judgement on them. I slowly regain possession of my llama mitts as the hellion across from me starts to vibrate with increasing fervor.

Being stuck in a unforeseen Mexican standoff. My cat clock on the wall meows aloud, breaking the silence with the announcement of the 7th hour. I turn my gaze for a split second as a natural reaction to find my toaster has gone mobile. My breathe begins to quicken, eyes shift frantically in search of any signs of this ruby red fiend. It was not until my third revolution when I saw the orange glow from beneath my hammock. As I move towards it the center of my hammock bursts into flames. The two slice toaster now fulling engulfed in its infernal orange glow. In an brutish rage I lunged at the toaster, to my astonishment the toaster moved with radical agility, whizzing around and flanking my right. I swept haphazardly with my left leg in hopes of kicking it away. I once again felt the sizzling of my flesh as the toaster erupts with twin columns of flame. The pant leg now buried in flames cooks my flesh. Wild screams of pain rip out off me as I fight to remove my trousers. In my confounding state I look up to meet the black sliders of the toaster, still bent in that simple scowl.

I spit at its fiendish face to hear it sizzle away on contact. The cold fingers of death felt tugging at my heart strings. Was this going to be the end of me. Death by some hellbent toaster??

With a fire from within, brought up from the forges of Hephaestus. With a llama mitted hand I punched the "Stop toasting" button. Ejected from the slots was something not born of this world...dare i say even this universe. This ethereal horror squealed in some unholy pitch and slunk away into the ventilation grate. I breathe a sigh of relief and bring my gaze back to my toaster. It was on its side, the remnants of the orange glow faintly seen before finally cooling off.

Keeping my hands gloved for I have lost all sense of trust with this box of flame I hesitantly put it back with a fools hope all will be okay. That order was finally back. I go to lay my weary body in my hammock to wallop myself upon the ground as the knowledge of my loss of my bed hit me it was far to late. For sleep took over me and I was off on my way to a better tomorrow.

February 25, 2021 21:54

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