naivechild
Today, I woke up earlier than usual (10am!!! Oh don't give me that look, it's a feat for me!) so I was really happy! Technically, it wasn't of my own accord, but at least I got out of bed, and stayed out of bed hehe...

I went about my business as usual, and by the time 1.30pm rolled around I found myself feeling slightly peckish. So I made my way to the kitchen, dropped two slices of bread into the toaster and then dashed off to nature's calling. Thinking I had some time before the toast popped up, I decided to make a phone call and finish some business...and eventually forgot about the toast.

So there I was, toast completely forgotten, and me having a staring competition with the wall.

Then I smelt something.

I sniffed, and sniffed again, and then a huge realisation about the weight of 1000000000000 x infinity tons fell on my head.

MY TOAST WAS BURNING.

I rushed out of my room, and then...
GANNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN.

There was smoke flowing from the pantry!!!!!!

Quickly, I barged in and found the toaster jammed. Now seriously, of all the times that it happened, it happened today?!

But that was the last of my worries.
My big worry was, "Oh crap, the house smells like smoke, THE NEW HOUSE SMELLS LIKE SMOKE, OMGEEWTHBBQ I'VE GOT TO DO SOMETHING FAST OR MUM WILL GO BONKERS!!!!!"

So in record time, and moving as fast as a superhero, I dashed around the house, yanked the front door open, slid the side door and window open as wide as possible, turned the fan on and grabbed the newspaper.

THEN came the tiring bit.

I started fanning.

I was waving the newspaper up and down, slightly annoyed that it wasn't bigger and that the pages kept tearing in my grasp, and at the same time making sure I was nowhere in the view of the outside world because I knew I would look like a madwoman chasing after some stupid little fly with torn newspaper.

Ohhhhhh possums, was I in trouble.

Then I decided, the newspaper sucked, so I grabbed a towel.
And the towel was good.
Yeah, it was good.
The only thing not good about it was that I kept hitting the back of my head with it because I would wave it too far back, and then curse myself for being an idiot.

And so, at this time, the house still smells of smoke.
The fan is still on, I've closed the doors because I'm scared someone might pop in and see something they like, and still running back and forth trying to rid the house of this ugly smell.

You know what the best bit is?
The toaster was located in my pantry.
Now, my pantry is not like the traditional pantry.
My pantry, is like a looooooonnnnggg storage room for food.
And my toaster sits on the bench.
In this long pantry, that has one small door on the other end, and no ventilation whatsoever.

It doesn't matter if I've gotten rid of all evidence that I burnt toast (hypothetically, because I haven't, and I think the house will smell like this for a few days).
The pantry is going to keep that smell for weeks!
It is the worst place to have something burn.

Aha, I am so going to go down when mum comes home.

*Yes, I am feeling slightly despaired. But for some reason, I feel like it was a hilarious situation. Especially when I sat down and thought of how I must've looked to the men outside doing the fence. Desperate times call for desperate needs people!
And thank the beautiful Lord and sweet Jesus that there was no fire. I'm not even going to entertain what would have happened had there been a fire!
naivechild

It was a chilly winter morning, soft grey clouds littered throughout the skies but bore no rain, sharp wind cut swiftly through the piles of sleeping leaves, disturbing them from their slumber. The hands of the clock were barely past 7am, and the city was still stirring from its silent night. Somewhere in that city, the glass doors of a café swung open to start business for the day.

And there she was.

There she sat in the café, one of the first customers who had entered, a cup of hot coffee on the table beside her, watching the world pass her by.

She saw the business man walk in, checking his watch for the time and quickly order a cappuccino.

She saw the group of school kids walk in, chattering and bickering between themselves while trying to decide what they wanted.

She saw the mother walk in, telling the waitress how she worried whether her kids would wake up in time for school.

She saw the jogger walk in with his dog, slightly out of breath as he ordered an iced coffee, smiling sheepishly at the look that he got in response.

She saw the waitress drop a bag of coffee beans as she left the storeroom, an expression of exasperation on her face when she noticed them roll under the counter.

She watched the business man jump in reaction as his name was called, hurriedly grabbing his coffee with a quick thanks and rush out the door.

She watched the group of school kids take a seat at a table, and then each call out which order belonged to whom when the waiter brought over a tray full of coffee and hot chocolate.

She watched the mother give a warm smile of gratitude as she took her drink and muffin, starting a new conversation with the person behind her.

She watched the jogger tease his dog as he waited for his order, only to be dragged out the door by his pet after he picked up his drink.

She watched the waitress sweep up the fallen coffee beans, bending down the get the ones that had rolled under the counter.

The hands of the clock slowly swung around and landed quietly on 9 o’clock.

But no one had noticed the lady sitting in the corner with her now lukewarm coffee.

No one had realised, that during that time, her eyes had stopped seeing.

No one had realised, that her ears had stopped hearing.

That her heart had stopped beating.

And yet time continued to move forward, as she sat in the café, a cup of cold coffee on the table beside her, watching the world through lifeless eyes.

naivechild

And it’s those days that I wish the wind would pick me up and whisk me away in its comforting embrace into my imagination.

The days when the sun shines gently upon the world, and we bask in it while squinting up, a smile graced on our face in gratitude.

The days when you dream that you were in a vast field, lush green grass and rolling hills spread over for miles never ending.

The days that you would wear a light, cotton summer dress, and run barefoot without a care in the world.

The days that the birds chirp proudly for you, the butterflies decide they want you to be their flower, and your dog would run in front of you, begging you to chase him with that cheeky grin of his.

It’s the kind of clichéd day that we all dream for, that we all wish to live in and not have to think about anything at all.