Blood, Fire, Water

Jake to Universe

Blood, fire, water. You have 15 minutes. Begin.

Steve skillfully slides the contents of the frying pan to one end and tosses it into the air. The diced onions and zucchini slide with ease as a single wave and rise up to a crest as they flow out of the pan and into the air. The wave curves back onto itself and crashes back into the pan where it is brought to meet the airborne flow. The onions are starting to caramelize nicely. Sizzling, some of them are richly brown or burnt. The zucchini was just added, releasing their invested moisture into the mix and making the sea harder to launch into the air. Then small plum tomatoes - blood red, short cylinders - not possessing much flesh. The larger tomatoes are meatier. They are added to the mix to give the sauce more substance while the smaller tomatoes are there for colour and taste.

He begins the motion that gives birth to another tsunami. This time red, brown and green, like a fresh grave which has been churned by torrents and hurricane winds. Briefly thrown up high then crashing down again. From this jumble the parts are now reformed where they began their journey. Flesh and grass uprooted, it's too heavy and comes crashing unto itself with additional force.

A splinter splash from this wave lands on the web of skin between Steve's thumb and forefinger and he jerks his hand back before even feeling the stinging of his skin. He had been admiring his skills to this point but now finds himself cursing his bravado. The kitchen is where he can relax and reflect but this is proving to be a most unrelaxing evening. The afflicted skin is firey red as blood rushes to heal the scorched thin membrane. The faucet nearby is turned on and he puts his hand underneath to ease the pain. He stares ahead and thinks of Susan.

It would take a thousand Niagaras to wash away the pain.