Its great you decided to visit since this is the last post for 2019!!! 😃
It has been a year! Unfortunately, not for my writing. I've had some struggles keeping up with writing. I'm praying 2020 will be a lot better.
Anyway, let's celebrate the end of the year with a small teaser from
FUMBLED FAITH!! (My next book on the list for publishing.)
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Do NOT use or reproduce in ANY form.
Protected Content.
Do NOT use or reproduce in ANY form.
Protected Content.
In
a feeble attempt to get breakfast, I tried my hand at some bacon and
eggs. Cooking had been one skill I lacked. Mom did most of the
cookery growing up while Grace took care of it once we moved in
together. Until now, I didn’t realize how hard cooking was. There
must be a specific intergalactic alignment or moon phase that made
Grace whip up some exclusive meals in this kitchen over the years.
Cabinets rose like sky scrappers in all directions as I checked each
one for some sort of pan to fry my food. I briefly watched Grace some
mornings busying herself skillfully around the kitchen. I got a few
eggs and grabbed the large pack of bacon from the top shelf of the
fridge. Then, got to work. The package of bacon was sealed like it
was going out of style, so I grabbed a knife, cut it open, and cut my
finger too. Who knew that the chef knife set had been that sharp.
This little nib didn’t stop me. After a few minutes of grumbling, I
wrapped my injured finger and went back to work. I lit the gas stove
and put the bigger frying pan on the burner. I dumped a bit of oil
when I missed, and a small amount landed on the floor. I made the
mental note to clean it up later.
Everything
seemed to be going well. Bacon was frying in a pan. The oil sizzled
in the smaller one as I grabbed the egg, only to find out that it
didn’t need that much strength to crack it. Huge chunks of shells
fell into the eggs and I did my best to scoop them out. Shortly
after, I realized I didn’t grab anything to flip the eggs, so I
rushed around the kitchen finding something to use when I hit the oil
on the floor and fell. All the air in my lungs came out in a whoosh
as I hit the floor. Laying in my pool of misery, I forced myself up,
grabbed the cooking utensil and struggled to flip the now overdone
egg. That’s when hell broke loose, and the bacon grease popped out
of the pan on to my arm. Winching in pain with each hit, I shuffled
the bacon around until it was a little too crispy. The bacon was
unloaded on the plate and I slide the eggs in beside it.