Chai, Bombs, Light and Love (Microfiction)

The day time melted, I stood in the kitchen, stirring a pot of boiling water, making chai. The ginger, cardamom and cloves swirled in the water. The steam rose hot and I smelled their aroma. The peppercorn hadn’t yet made it in.

The day time melted, I hadn’t yet heard the news. The bombs had not hit and exploded. I never knew they were coming. The government hadn’t known how to stop the bombs, but the scientists had found a way to stop time. They just didn’t realize how dangerous it was.

So the bombs hovered while the world stopped.

Light became brighter. Blinding white yellow light. At first, some thought it was the bombs. But it was time crashing into the speed of light. Light stopping in its tracks. Growing illumination.

As the bright yellow immersed me, I wanted to tell my husband I loved him, but he wasn’t in the room, and there was no time left to walk to him, to kiss him or hug him close. Instead, I was stuck warm in one moment forever, full of love and light, hovering, spoon in hand.

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