Writer's Toolbox Daily Task: Good Morning
Welcome to Monday! Fritz has your breakfast ready and is delighted to see you. Only problem is: I thought dogs couldn't cook. So what just happened here?
Oh, and your THIRD sentence must be exactly 15 words long and contain the words 'green' and 'remarkable.'
Most people wake up groaning about stiff necks and alarms. I wake up to see my dog sitting on a bench cooking me breakfast.
The morning wasn't that remarkable to begin with; just plain me in my green pyjamas. Glorious sunlight streams in through the window, looking into my eyes and letting the astonishing city view show itself, although it's really blurry without my glasses. It's all so heaven-like, cuddled up in a blanket and getting some good sleep.
Naturally, it's ruined in about two minutes.
"RUFF!" An agitated bark comes from downstairs. Fritz. Clearly he has woken up to find his food bowl empty, and is not happy about it. I groan, and reluctantly pull myself out of bed and immediately slide onto the floor. Wow. Queen of gymnastics right here.
I snap myself awake and stumble up, my hands groping for the rail of the staircase. Why didn't I remember my glasses? I left them on the hall table, I think miserably. I will have to just feel my way through, although I don't remember the rail being so far away.
Finally, my hands find the staircase, and I sigh in relief. "Coming, Fritz!" I call, and attempt to place my foot on the stair. Then it slips, and suddenly I'm falling down the stairs, doing summersaults like a toddler rolling down a hill, and I slam into the wall opposite.
"Ouch," I moan. "Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch."
For the second time today, I try to pull myself up, and I suddenly feel the wood grains on the hall table. Wait. The hall table? My fingers find my glasses and I shove them very quickly onto my head. Everything comes into view, and I notice the colourful bruises emerging on my leg.
That's when I see Fritz. That's when I wonder whether I have put my glasses on or not or if I am seeing a pain-induced hallucination.
He's perched up on my kitchen bench, fiddling around with some tea towels next to the sink. The matter of how he got up there suddenly seems irrelevant when I take in the plate beside him.
It's a gorgeous feast of eggs, bacon, salmon, hash browns, toast, and many other amazing things that I have never seen before. The kitchen itself has been used and cleaned; dishes neatly stacked and pots filled with water. I don't know if dogs can smile, but Fritz seems to be doing his best-beaming at my shocked face.
"Um...what?" I stutter, my mouth gaping open in disbelief. "Fritz..."
Fritz raises his head in pride and I continue to stare at the plate of food.
"How did you, I mean...how..."
My sentence is cut short as Kate strolls in. Her hair is even messier than mine, and her glasses—she remembered to put them on her beside table, how rude—are fogged up from the hot chocolate she's holding in her hands.
"Nice try." She says the minute she sees the plate of food. "I can't be fooled that easily."
I quickly refocus on her. "What? No, I came down..."
"Georgia, your leg!" Kate swiftly puts down her mug and rushes to my side, bending down and examining the bruises. "What happened?"
"I fell down the stairs without my glasses and I put them on and saw this!" I gesture towards Fritz looking at us expectantly. "I swear that is what happened!"
Kate frowns. "Then how..."
"I don't know," I say. "How is the right word for this indeed."
We stare at Fritz, then suddenly, everything I think I know about the world is tipped upside down like an hourglass as Fritz opens his mouth.
"Well, you do have quite a few cookbooks."