Command The Kitchen

Almonds sprinkle into the pan. Shuttering and shivering, they burst from the excitement caused by the heat. The smell erupts into the kitchen, a scorched sweetness that brings wrinkles to my nose.

I ask myself outloud, "Why did I do that?"

But, only the almonds know the answer to that.

I am left with controlling the damage of my cooking epiphany. Internally, I stuggle with the thought that I may have assisted with the suicide of these almonds; now lying crackling on the floor. Externally, I am dancing around the burning drupes on the dirty kitchen tile.

My wife, slack-jawed, asks me why I did that.

But, as I am scrambling to clean up the mess, I can only respond with "the almonds told me to."

She lightly scoffs and allows me to return to my kitchen adventure.