UMD Stories


The Wasted Dessert
Story by SloppySonx
Posted 3/19/18     761 views
The dishes have been cleared and the guests have all left. I sit alone in my dining room staring down at three untouched pies.

The excuses were cliche. I really shouldn't. No, thank you, we never eat dessert. They look wonderful, but I couldn't eat another bite. My heart sank with each refusal.

I spent all day cleaning and cooking and baking. The dinner went well enough, but a dinner is only as successful as its dessert. Not one of my friends wanted to touch my pies.

Couldn't just one of them have had a slice? I worked so hard to make them, and I am certain they are delicious. I feel a burning frustration building up inside me. Everything was perfect, the drinks and appetizers, the place settings, the food. I look down at my pies, rejected, humiliated. Everyone has left and I sit here alone, stupidly staring down at a dessert that no one would eat. Why?

I pick up the closest pie and without hesitation swiftly smash it into my face. The creamy icing splatters everywhere, onto the hutch and wall behind me, all over the floor, a terrific mess. But at this moment I am both confirming and suppressing an overwhelming feeling of inadequacy. If I am impotent, at least I can honestly admit it to myself.

I pull the tin away but the pie adheres, obscuring my face, and I feel my unease lessen a bit. My heart rate begins to calm. Some of pie slowly slides off my face and drops onto the linen tablecloth in front of me. Some of it falls into my lap and onto the rug at my feet.

I tried to be the perfect host, but this evening was a failure. Now I sit in my dining room, soiled and in solitude, staring down at two uneaten, wasted pies. I can't just let them go to waste.
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Comments:
In-yer-face:
3/20/18
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I really enjoyed that, especially the build up, please write more
jonh387:
3/21/18
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Great story Sonny Boy. I'd like to act it out with you, where I'd be a sympathetic last-leaving guest who tries to pep you up by pushing one of the other pies in his face, then we play rock-paper-scissors for the last pie.
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