May. 9th, 2013

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I'll just find one to start out with via the webs! The maybe root around in my books and get some more going.

I was resisting having some writing ideas and feeling that I do not have enough energy , but something just propelled me to do this!

I am taking this from http://clarionfoundation.wordpress.com/2010/05/03/writing-prompt-1-2/

The number I choose is "4" .

Story Seed #4

This story takes place … DURING THE APOCALYPSE
in … A KITCHEN
found … IN A DENSE URBAN AREA.
The story centers on … A DELIVERY PERSON
who comes up against … A MILITARY LEADER.
At some point, someone discovers … A SANDWICH

...

My kitchen was like a fortress within a fortres within a fortress.
I had amassed about a hundred cookbooks--some very useful: 365 ways with a can of soup and rice.
Some pretty- Tea for one or two or a dozen? EZ!
A few were helping the teachers make sure the children didn't slip into illiteracy-- ABC--oookies! or The 25 basic meals every boy and girl needs to be able to make!

I closely knew the few and far between who could enter my kitchen- the compound had a dozen, but this was mine. I rested my guns, I left behind the swords and the bow and arrow and the careful planning to keep this handful alive, and I made a few good meals out of nothing.
We had just found a caterer's warehouse. My goddess, what an amazing find. Flour and big cans and cooking stoves and a few bbq's and yes, a still running generator with frozen beef, pork, and chicken.
So I let the seven trsuted souls into my domain, and we soaked some pork in pineapple and some beef in red wine and marinated chicken with Colonel Meacham's amazing sauce. She guarded it like I guarded this kitchen.

This was a barbeque to end it all. Carefully tested fish were included, cooked by Lillian and her crew/ Big drums of ice cream, home made by Sherle Levine and about a dozen others. The kids screamed and played and tge grownups discussed everything except war and shortages and rations and how after spring comes summer comes fall, then winter.

I didn't wear anything practical-wore a shift of deep blue-grey, I only strapped on my "day gun" and ate, and served and laughed and was advised by the general to back away from cleaning that kitchen, ma'am!

I had been more tired before, and had certainly in the last few months, had more cause to sleep solid sleep, but I walked up to my bed, and slept and dreamt of far better days.

I slept past noon. I was awakened by a tray--coffee, a big cheese danish, a huge bacon and cheese and egg sandwich, on a biscuit, orange juice, a small bowl of berries... delivered by General Munoz himself.
He had his own tray brought up and we just shot the shit, an old black op gal and an expert strategist.

"You know what, Colonel?"

"What, sir?"

"first job I had was in a distant cousin's b and b in London! Delivering breakfasts to folks who didn't want to get up and down to the breakfast room. Now one time, I had a star there, who was "roughing" it. Cannot say who--just cannot. I went everywhere to get her a few special items. Back in the very early 80's. Well she got me talking while I deliver this oddball tray- chocolates and American food and Indian curry and kippers and chai and pomegranate juice and...phew...I just told her about the perfect sandwich- and she just waved me away..."

I looked up at him. The coffee was too good. The bacon was crisped to perfection. I ate the last blueberry with regret...figuring of course, this sort of meal wasn't going to be habit.

"The year before I enlisted...1983...I went back and did the same job-although my distant cousin was low on help so I was more of a gopher and cleaner and server...and the star stopped by for a couple nights. She loved my cousin's place. Warm and cozy -- and then she sees me, nods and goes out. She comes back with a bag of fancy clothes--you know loud wild package with a few tufts of silken things peaking out...to think of her back then in those...well, the gist of it was was that she put a package in front of me..."Hungry. she said?" Yep" I answered...There it was. Imagine you favorite sandwich...or a few of your favorites favorite ingredients. There it was."

He left behind half a bowl berries.

"hey take the next week off, Colonel. Go and read and forget--all this for a while."

He swept his hand near the window, at the crowded ruins and the makeshift walls we had made to keep out the less desirable survivors.

"Yes, sir."

(well not exactly the prompt's perfect following but got me going!)

((rough draft...))

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