Jon Cloud is joining the bloghop for the first time, and I was happy to get to host this little gem of a story!
Elizabeth’s stomach growled as she swirled the fresh bacon in its pan.
She was a stout woman, though not overweight, but she couldn’t deny how much she loved a good meal. Brushing locks of her curly flaxen hair out of her eyes, she tipped the pan up, sliding the sizzling bacon onto her plate. The salty, meaty smell was so inviting that she could almost taste it. Dipping into the other pans on her stove, she ladled hot potatoes and butter onto her plate, nestling fresh toast right beside them.
She couldn’t believe how hungry she was this morning.
But then, a whole night of expelling monsters from her house was bound to work up an appetite.
Sitting at the table of her small kitchen, she prepared to tuck in to her food. Just at that moment, however, a soft chill rolled down her spine.
Groaning, she threw the fork to the table, “Oh come on, can’t a girl get through breakfast without you guys popping up!”
She shoved her chair back and scanned the room. It hadn’t felt very big. That meant it could be hiding anywhere.
Shoving the sleeves of her cardigan up, she threw open cupboards and moved appliances out. She dropped to one knee and felt under the stove. Her blonde curls brushed the floor as she peeked beneath the baseboards.
She eventually stood up, feeling over-warm in her cardigan sweater.
Nothing. She huffed a stray curl from her eyes and gave the room – now quite messy – a second glance. She was pretty sure it was in here.
Had she looked everywhere? She was pretty sure she had. But, maybe she’d missed some corner of the pots and pans cupboard.
Leaning down to rifle through the cookware, she saw the loaf of bread which she had made toast from sitting on the counter. Only, there were two of them, and she’d only brought out one loaf.
Of course, she thought. It must be a shape shifter!
It seemed to think it was still safe because it didn’t budge as she slowly reached down under the counter and grabbed hold of a frying pan. Yanking the pan out, she swiftly bashed the thing square on its head.
At least. She thought she’d hit the monster. As she lifted the pan, she saw a regular – albeit thoroughly smooshed – loaf of bread.
She’d hit the wrong loaf.
The intact bread sprouted a pair of shocked eyes as it beheld the dead bread and rapidly morphed itself into the shape of a soup can. With a spin it made for the edge of the counter.
“Oh no you don’t!” She said, grabbing instinctively for it as it fell.
Her hand wrapped around warm metal, and she hastily tried to expel the monster before it could shapeshift again.
But as her palm shimmered with yellow light, the monster shifted into a bar of wet soap and her still-closing fingers spurted it up into the air.
“Yeeks!” She exclaimed, trying to grab it in midair.
But it was too slippery. After several, juggling grabs, her hand caught it sideways and it went spinning into the sink, landing in the water with a splash.
Floating in the water it shot her a quick, wide-eyed look before shifting into a mug and sinking with a burble.
She growled. Her breakfast wasn’t getting any warmer.
Crossing her arms sourly, she began tapping her foot. It couldn’t stay under for long. It had to breathe.
But a horrible flash of insight came over her.
What if it squeezed under the plug and turned into a marble or something? She’d be pulling out the plumbing from now until who-knows-when!
She lunged for the sink, tossing things out onto the floor until she couldn’t feel anything more in the water. Keeping her hand over the drain, she pulled the plug and let the water empty out.
Nothing. She sighed with relief.
Turning to look at the items on the floor she frowned. All of it looked like her ordinary dishware. But all these things had been in cold water. So the only thing that should be warm would definitely be the shapeshifter.
Picking up each item, she sorted through them slowly. Spoons, forks, plates, cups. Each one went into the sink as she felt its temperature.
As she reached for one of the cups however, it rolled away from her hand.
Gotcha. She thought, triumphantly.
It was clearly tired. Otherwise it would have shifted into something else.
Before it could get any more rest, she snatched it up off the floor. It became a wriggling gray blob in her grip and tried several times to bite her. But it was too tired to form any kind of useful mouth.
With a deep breath, she shut her eyes, and focused on the feel of the monster in her hand. Her palm warmed up, and through her eyelids she could see the yellow glow from the runes etched into her palm.
The air hummed with the effect and the monster evaporated. Slipping back into the plane of existence it had come from.
She breathed a sigh of relief. Well, at least it was over. And while the place was now a total wreck, there would be plenty of time for cleaning after breakfast.
Her stomach rumbled, remembering the bacon, potatoes, and toast she’d left uneaten.
“Hear hear,” she said, patting her stout belly, “I couldn’t agree more.”
Sliding down into her chair with a sigh she tucked a leg up under her thigh and lifted her fork. Spearing a strip of bacon and scooping up a lump of potatoes she raised it to her mouth expectantly.
The food was still warm and the aroma wafted into her mouth.
Suddenly, a wicked chill raked down her spine, causing her to sit up straight in her chair with a shudder. It was followed by a thunderous crash from the next room.
“Oh… come… ON!” She exclaimed.
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Morning Monsters by Jon Cloud <<<<You are Here
Some Imagination by James Husum
