the last doughnut ➳ short story

the last doughnut

It was an early one summer evening in the sweltering heat of Walt City. Traffic was oddly light as Oscar Milton made his way home from a hard day's work at the office. Like many others at this time of day, there was only one thing on his mind, Delighted Diana's Bakery. A wide smile crept its way across his face as he drove the beat-up black Chevy Impala into the empty parking lot in front of the bakery. He was always the first person to show up. The first to park in front of the door. He believed that spot he always parked in and never failed to get, but maybe once or twice, should have his name on it.

It was six o'clock on the dot. It was around this time that Delighted Diana's began to set up the shop for the day before returning to bake delicious treats in the early hours for the next morning. This was the time Delighted Diana's came out and marked down the day's unsold stock. This was the time Oscar had been waiting for all day and every day.

The ground trembled and his car shook as Oscar stepped onto the faded black pavement. This wasn't because he was particularly intimidating or anything, it was because he was a rather a large man. Nonetheless, passing pedestrians looked on in awe of the man on a mission; his mind completely occupied by a single objective. The doors of the bakery seemingly flew open at his silent command without a sound. Nothing could stand in this man's way. Not a short walk or automatic doors could stop Oscar from reaching his goal.

Across the polished tiled floor, Oscar spotted his most beloved prize. Behind the protective display window sat one solitary item; a ring more beautiful than any other that existed in the world that glittered in the setting sun. It was a pink glazed donut, the Delighted Diana's house special. Oscar took a moment to stare in admiration. It was the last donut, and it was Oscar's.

However, one man chose to temp Oscar with horrible fate.

Stepping through the automatic doors behind Oscar came another man whose great body-type mirrored Oscar's own. The dark grey tracksuit the man was wearing was soaked with sweat that seemed to pour from every pore or crease in his body and his mighty lungs longed for the bakery's fresh air conditioning. Not one person in the entire world envied the horrific task to wash that outfit.

If Oscar had more time he would identify the man as someone trying desperately and ultimately failing to make a change in his life. His tracksuit signified that someone, perhaps a girlfriend or wife, asked him to exercise because there was no way a man that overweight would because he wanted to. His sweat was proof that he was making an honest effort at it too. However, he was failing in his weight loss attempt. The fact that he was at Delighted Diana's was proof. Reading the stitched embroidery on the breast of his track top would reveal his name to be "Herman Parker", and whoever asked him to exercise cared about him very much because it appeared that his name was hand stitched in a fine white thread.

Unfortunately, Oscar didn't have time to do that deep of an examination. All he knew was that he was exhausted, hungry and after the last donut. That was all Oscar needed to know to make a decision. Within the thoughts of Oscar's mind, Oscar named the other man "Doughboy" and strictly forbade to let anyone steal his prize when he was so close to it, yet so far away.

Stepping forward to match Doughboy's pace, Oscar stumbled forward towards the counter. The two hulking men were neck and neck for most of their journey. One would pull ahead now and again, but eventually both men collapsed on the counter with their lungs burning for oxygen at the same time, stunning the young female shop attendant. The two heathens paused for a moment and looked at each other. With major strong efforts, both men hauled themselves to their feet, neither one willing to give into exhaustion.

The two men's gazes bore competition into each so cold that they could stop the hearts of younger men. Only one man could walk away with the one golden ring and there was only one way of deciding who that one man would be.