Writing Prompt #47


Writing Prompt #47: He sniffed the air, it was definitely pancakes he could smell, he smiled.


2 thoughts on “Writing Prompt #47

  1. It was Saturday. Normally he got up to make the pancakes while the coffee brewed. Flour, baking powder, sugar, salt. Choose cinnamon, nutmeg, clove, allspice, ginger, or some of any or all. Stir. Whisk eggs. Add milk, oil, vanilla, to eggs. Whip. Add dry to wet, fold gently into batter, fry on a buttered griddle. But it had been a late night at the office, and he’d slept late. Today, he woke up smelling perfect pancakes, and from the aroma he knew his Kenya AA beans, not that crap he normally gagged down when he was late, before he could taste anything.

    It smelled like Christmas morning. He stayed in bed, while his alarm clock gently played “Lucy In the Sky with Diamonds,” not quite believing his senses. The pancakes were joined by pork sausage with pepper, sage, and fennel, and a hint of thyme.

    He couldn’t stand it. He got up and pulled on his ragged, aged-to-perfect-comfort bathrobe, and quietly walked to the kitchen. There, a woman with amazing curves and softly curling hair stood by the range top. She turned, and the corners of her pink lips turned up into a coy smile, one with secrets.

    “I used egg nog with a splash of rum for some of the milk. Here. Try them!”

    “You are so amazing. I’m so happy.”

    “Me, too.”

    Liked by 1 person

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