It was a most troubling delivery

It was a most troubling delivery for Godot’s Bistro. Clearly, the newest methamphetamines prescribed to his now second-favorite sous-chef did precisely their job in handling their worsening ADHD symptoms by obliterating a sense of general rationality altogether.

“I must have… missed a decimal or two on the distributor’s tags,” the distressed sous-chef exclaimed, breaking out in hives due to the sudden onset of a minor shellfish allergy.

Godot stared at walk-in freezer, noting idly that because it no longer had space to walk in, the large thermoregulating device might be having a crisis of identity or purpose. He felt strangely empatico with the oversized icebox – he, too, felt distantly like he might be having a crisis himself.

“Chef, I think I may cry.”

“You may. Not I, though. No, I do not weep at the world – I am too busy sharpening my oyster knife.”

Prompt: Use of the quote, “”No, I do not weep at the world – I am too busy sharpening my oyster knife.” in a 144-word or less piece of prose. The quote itself is from Zora Neale Hurston, “How Does it Feel to be Colored Me” in World Tomorrow (1928), while the prompt was provided by the kind writers over at the pub, dVerse, as part of their Monday Prosery Series.

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21 thoughts on “It was a most troubling delivery

  1. I love your first paragraph. So creative and really sets the tone. It reminds me of William S. Burroughs’ writing in, “Naked Lunch.”

    A gentle reminder: part of the prompt guidelines:
    “Please include Zora Neale Hurston and where the quote came from on your post” Will you please add this information to your post?

    Liked by 1 person

    1. My apologies! I have added the relevant information to the post. Serves me right for thinking it was like the other challenges the d’Verse pushes forward.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. I feel horrible for laughing here:

    “I must have… missed a decimal or two on the distributor’s tags,” the distressed sous-chef exclaimed, breaking out in hives due to the sudden onset of a minor shellfish allergy.

    It just was perfect in its delivery of the line. So well written and I enjoyed reading it, Masa. Your descriptions captivate and mesmerize my mind, and the capacity of 144 words fails to limit you or your creativity. It knows no bounds. Such amazing work, I am stunned. ❤ ❤

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you, kindly.
      I am most at home with prose, despite the current concentration of poetry cluttering up my recollections.

      Your words are simply too kind. Again, thank you.

      Liked by 1 person

    1. Simple humor, classic situational comedy. Perhaps a little too ignorant of the source quote and its powerful underlying message, but stiff upper lip and all that. It’s coming from a good place.

      Liked by 1 person

    1. I mockingly refer to it as surreal-relativism – not true surrealism, but the moments in our lives when the absurd simply happens and our first reaction is somehow a collected, “Oh, I see.” Thus the deliberate nod to Beckett – nice catch, Ingrid.

      I felt a little poorly for utilizing the quote in a detached piece of humor without allowing for the full majesty of its depth to flourish, but… an artist can do only the best they can do.

      Thank you for reading!

      Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you, thank you, it’s an honor just to be nominated.
      I’d like to thank my editor, my dear partner, and my enabler: this tall, cool glass of Cuba Libre.

      Liked by 1 person

    1. I wonder that myself. Is Godot’s Bistro successful? He has two sous-chef (or perhaps just one, second-favorite) and he doesn’t seem above menial labor himself. Is he a stoic, or simply unable to process quite quickly what is happening?

      I’ll tell you what, though – their oyster sandwiches have been a heavily discounted special all week!

      Liked by 1 person

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