Copyright Daniela Andreea Toma 2015. All rights reserved.
In the breezy sunny rustic kitchen with old french style furniture and a cast iron stove, four pastel dresses decorated the off white wooden chairs sitting around a table filled with milk glasses, forks, cloth napkins and little ceramic plates where pumpkin pie died in peace.
– Mabel, try a piece from my pie! Do you like it?
– Rachel dear, I can’t tell the difference.
– I added more cinnamon into mine. I looove cinnamon!
– Hm, are you sure? Because I can’t taste any cinnamon. And I would, because I hate cinnamon.
– So you didn’t put any cinnamon in your pie?
– Not a grain.
– May I taste your pie?
– Sure. I haven’t tasted it yet, but go ahead, be the first to tasted.
-Oh, my! I am afraid there has been a terrible mismatching of pies and girls.
And the kitchen filled with sounds of crystal bells and violins, pink, turquoise, peach and lemon.
Mira was having the best of her time here, at neighbors girls. Her peach shoes lied silent under her chair because Mira sat with bent legs underneath herself. She absolutely adored their pumpkin pies, each a tad different in flavor than the other. Lifting crumb by crumb on her fork, she paused for second before each bite to whisper in her mind “I love you, tiny crumb of pumpkin pie!”
– So, Mira! spoke Fiona. What’s the show about? You came to tell us about a show chez monsieur Theo.
– When does it start? asked Rachel.
– Do we have to dress up? asked Mabel.
There was exactly one second of absolute silence just before a plate screamed on the stone floor, followed by metallic sounds of fork.
“The dangers of ether traveling. Always set a clear purpose for your journey ahead of time. Always remember your journey’s purpose! I must remain calm” thought Mira.
– Mira, Mira, ma fille, vienne vite!
Mira lunched herself like a torpedo, knocking down plates and crumbs and Maman Marie almost.
“I must stay calm. All is well. All is fine. I’m running. That’s all. And all is well.”
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