Sometimes
in my waking sleep
just before i go under
i swear
our souls touch
and oh
how they spark
''
I'm here again.
Flour covers my hands.
All I can smell is dough; some of it baking, some of it just lingering in the air as if the place was made out of it.
This is my job.
It's not a very high ranking job, but I enjoy it. Cooking has always been something I've been fond of.
Today, though, I have an order.
For a cake, but there's no name, and no description.
Just, "a delicious cake for a loved one". As I read the dirty piece of paper, splotches of cooking oil marring the white color, a breeze almost takes the note from my fingers.
I consider closing it... but I don't.
Cakes are easy to make. Compared to the other things I make in this kitchen at least.
As it bakes I think about what I should put on it.
There's not even a number on it.
It was hard enough to choose the flavor, so I went with what I believe is delicious. I hope they'll agree.
The time for pick up was scrawled on the back, I'm not even sure who wrote this note... but it said 11:11. I guess I can stay open late.
Once it was done I seated the cake and frosted it plainly.
Staring down at it... I still honestly had no clue what to put on it.
Strangely enough, at the moment I heard a voice but,
I didn't notice I had I acted on it
nevertheless as it whispered to me.
It said beautiful flowers.
So I made small blue flowers.
It murmured for gentle patterns of vines, so I did so.
And as it mentioned a name, a pair of hands found my forearms.
"Elle, you can put that name down."
It was him. I was afraid to turn around.
"....You're here during the day? You will be seen..."
His response was simple,
"It's your birthday."
I couldn't move.
"Now finish your cake, ok?"
I had so many questions for him. I quickly put my name on the cake and spun around, my face burning as I saw him there in all his perfection. He let go of my arms as he smiled and chuckled at my reaction.
What do you do when you fall in love with an angel?
When they are so far above you and you watch, as if gazing at a flock of birds.
When they have a world of their own, one you arent a part of... one you can't understand or imagine.
What do you do when he feels the same, but because of the distance between the ground and sky, you cannot be together.
