The Cake

I woke up with a start, when my husband, Charlie, turned on the light and asked, “Honey, what are you doing?”

I looked around. I was in my nightgown and standing by my kitchen counter frosting a cake. Oh no, I’ve been sleep walking again and this time I've baked a cake.

Charlie’s going to want me to go to that clinic for sleep disorders again. I hate that place. I don’t want to go back there, ever. I’ve got to think fast. I turned to him and snapped, “What does it look like I’m doing?”

He gave me one of his pained looks and said, “You’ve baked a cake and now you’re icing it. But Helen, why are you making a cake at two in the morning?"

I didn’t want to go back to that clinic. As I tried to think of an answer, I saw the calendar on the wall. “It was to be a surprise to celebrate today, but now you’ve spoiled it.”

“Celebrate today?” He looked at the calendar and scratched his head. “What’s special about today?”

“You don’t remember?” I answered. “You really don’t know what today is.” I feigned shock, turned away and faked a sob. “I can see it means nothing to you.” He tried to touch me and I pulled away. I hid my face with my hands and bit my lip to keep from laughing.

“I’m sorry,” he said. He sounded as though he was going to cry. “I just don’t remember.”

“Well, I’m not going to tell you.” I finished decorating the cake and cleaned up the kitchen. When I turned out the bedroom light and went to sleep, Charlie was still in the living room trying to remember what was special about March 2nd.


295 words


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ID: 896794   (Rated: 13+) Daily Flash Fiction Challenge  Enter your story of 300 words or less. Note new starting time! by arakun the twisted raccoon