Pot of Tea

August 18, 2010
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It’s funny and terrifying how something so insignificant, like a little mouse stealing the last crumb or a book falling off the table, can cause so much catastrophe. I thought my luck insignificant, as well as the spice rack. Actually, I probably didn’t think of it at all, but that day it caused chaos.
I put the teapot on the stove waiting for it to call me back. It whistled as I came. The steam escaping its genie bottle reached for the shelves. It caught me at the cross section. My hand slammed against the spices, I yelped. Cradling my hand to my chest, the paprika jar shattered. I stepped away from the flying glass falling to the floor. The second jar of seasonings leaped from its spot on the shelf. It knocked the teapot from the burner, the pot crashed to the floor spilling its contents to dance with the glass. Then chaos ensued.
Like Mickey Mouse and his magical hat things picked themselves up and threw themselves off of the shelves, the counters, the sink. The clashing of pots, the Banging of pans, the glittering sound of glass falling from the sky filled my head.
I turned away, shielding my eyes from playful malice. Heat pulled my head back around. The fire rose intimidatingly. A cup of water, the only thing not shredded, was the only weapon available. It did nothing. Fire ate at the wall. As I fled the fire raced me to the door.
He won. I turned hoping desperately that an escape would reveal itself to me. While I wasn’t looking he snuck up behind me nipping at my shoelaces, licking up my back. A shrill sound, not unlike the glass skipping across the floor, made itself known. I found the sound was mine at the same time I found a window. The lock wouldn’t open so I beat it open. As I climbed through it, it made one more attack. My legs and arms and hands bled as I crawled out on the street, falling down in defeat and surrender. Burns still scaring me, I stared, as the fire consumed it all. Coughing I watched the house burn to the ground, sirens sounding. I mumbled through plastic and air to the paramedics,”It was just a pot of tea.”
It’s funny and terrifying how something so insignificant can cause so much catastrophe.

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