Chapter 23: Brownie

Chapter 23: Brownie

Sometimes Im gripped by anxiety.

Not the kind you get when you are on the verge of getting fired, no, no.

Imagine you are having breakfast with Selena Gomez. Why are you consuming food with her, you might ask. Instead, my question would be, why are you not choking?! Man, thats Selena Gomez, for Gods sake! You should be breathless, you tasteless donkey!.

Anyway.

Lets say you are either having breakfast with Selena Gomez or whomever you consider erroneously the most beautiful woman on the planet. Or man. Or whatever. You know what Im saying.

Ok, now, you go to the bathroom because your bladder is exploding. However, the joint you are currently in has a spotlessly clean bathroom. For some crazy reason, you are terrified to dirty even one tile with your filthy body fluids; God knows that, lucky as you are, an employee might find out and tell Selena what kind of a disgusting nasty beast you are.

So, you sit down to deliver a number one.

But thats when it happens.

Another impulse takes over your body. Your weak flesh, not being accustomed to sitting on the throne without getting the signal to open all dams, wants relief.

But you cant.

You are around the clock.

Selena Gomez is waiting for you.

Now, you are fighting with every fiber of your being to keep in what is trying to go out at all costs.

In this colorful metaphor, I just compared my infatuation for Lucinda to a fat number two, and the fattest at that!

The sitting down on the throne, instead, is me spending time with her when I know I should be doing something completely different. We cant happen. I just caught some feelings for her because well, because.

So, I shouldnt be sitting here, but I should be spending time with my Selena Gomez who, in this metaphor, is baking?

Yeah, I know. This didnt come out the best way, did it?nove(l)bi(n.)com

I thought it would turn out differently. But it is what it is.

Sometimes I start stories and I dont really know where Im going.

This is the result.

Now I remember what I was thinking about before, when I met Lucinda!

I still didnt get a class as a [Baker], I tell my lovely and hungry hyena, I worked more than a few days there, but I didnt get anything like that. Any idea why?

Lucinda looks pensive while she ponders the question for a bit.

Do you have any other class? she asks.

[Mage].

Her eyebrows go up.

But not in the good way.

Shes not surprised, shes just

Oh, good for you, good for you.

Pity.

Shes just feeling a bit of pity. She already knows I must have tried hard to learn some magic, didnt she?

Look, I can make a mean [Light], I think.

Maybe you dont want to be a [Baker]? If you dont see yourself as that thing or if a big part of you doesnt consider [Baker] something that you are, that might be the answer. Its common knowledge. If you got a class for everything you did, you would be swarmed with classes. Instead, you tend to acquire classes toward which your spirit leans.

Oh shoot.

What is this psychobabble?

I cant even try to get a class without the universe trying to give me a lesson in my rotten psychology.

Look, Lady Luck, or whoever is pulling the strings, I dont want to know. Im good. Really. Thank you. And if you dont want me to be a [Baker], Ill just go be a baker.

Shall we go?

Lucinda asks me while she fishes for some coin in her robe.

I nod and get up, ready for the red curtains to open on our new play.