Awwwwwww this was so dang sweet!! Here's my little piece conjured up over a little longer than 5 minutes, but I couldn't help myself :)
I don't normally write fiction, but this all popped into my head! I've been daydreaming about writing a fictional story and your churro with chocolate was a great way in! Thanks Evelyn! <3
Cookie spied the street vendor with the flashing neon sign, “CHURROS” called out to her as she wandered aimlessly along the sidewalk. What had she been thinking about just now? Oh, right, happier times. So few and far between these days. Maybe a churro will usher in a moment of joy.
The vendor had eyed the pretty brunette heading his way, she seems so sad. He willed her to look up at him, he couldn’t make out all her features, but he could tell they were delicate punctuated by a slightly pouty mouth. Just as he started to look down, she looked up and they locked eyes.
“Who is that?!” Cookie thought to herself.
“Who is she?” the vendor thought to himself.
They both timidly smiled at each other as she continued her approach.
Everyone else had disappeared.
Cookie gave a little wave and shyly walked up. “Hi” she said. Clearing his throat, seems a frog had gotten stuck there in a matter of seconds, “hello” he returned.
“May I have one of your churros? They smell divine” Cookie asked. *Who says divine?*
“Of course, anything you want!” He exclaimed. *Am I being extra loud? What is happening to my voice? Why am I sweating*
Cookie started grinning more broadly and he felt the heat rise into his cheeks. He fumbled around trying to get the churro into the wrapping, muttering to himself about his own clumsiness.
Cookie found herself chuckling softly, she could relate to his fumbles and utterances, and she found him endearing.
He handed her the churro stick and asked “Have you ever dipped a churro in melted chocolate before?”
Cookie’s eyes lit up, “no, that sounds fantastic and exactly what I need right now”.
The vendor’s own eyes lit up at how excited she was to have chocolate. He handed over the little cup full of melted goodness. She instantly dipped the churro and watched the chocolate fill the sugary ridges and drip down the sides, her mouth watered in anticipation of the first bite.
Cookie looked back up and felt a little butterfly take flight in her belly. The vendor is quite handsome she thought to herself, dark wavy hair and kind light blue eyes, wait is that a dimple. She fought the urge to poke it and then realized she’d been staring, and he was staring just as intently at her.
“Thank you so much for making this day better.” she said as she turned to leave.
Suddenly remembering she hadn’t paid she turned back and met his gaze once more, “how much?”
“For you, anything.” He responded. *Wait that’s not right, she asked how much, as in how much to pay*
“Sorry?” She inquired.
“Um, no charge for you today. You said you needed it, so it’s on the house” he sheepishly replied.
“You don’t have to do that, thank you though.” Cookie decided to leave a tip and as she went to drop a ten-dollar bill into his cup, he stopped her and touched her hand.
They both jumped at the contact and then laughed.
“I’m not usually this awkward I swear,” Cookie said giggling.
The vendor decided to take a chance. It had been a weird day full of serendipitous moments, he took this as his sign to leap.
“I’m Cookie” she said bravely, holding out her hand that wasn’t covered in sugar and chocolate.
“I’m Drew” he said and took her outstretched hand in his own. The thought repeating in both their heads - this is exactly what they both needed right this divine moment.
Mesa! I already said it in Notes where you posted it first, but this is so so lovely. I love the extra sweetness her name adds to the story (Cookie! churro! cinnamon! chocolate!)
I'm thrilled that even though you don't write fiction, this opened up an unused part of your brain and you got to play!
I'm really excited about this untapped piece of myself! I started telling my husband all about it and he encouraged me to keep going with it! He saw how lit up I am over it :) So much fun to play!! And leave a what if door open ❤️❤️
you have such a wonderful optimistic attitude. I love how you see the possibilities but don’t weigh yourself down with too much pressure as you explore!
Thank you for seeing me! I gave myself permission this year to do all the things that light me up and I think that's been a real life changer for me. It's given me the ability to see things differently :) and also embrace so much more!
So cute! Now I want to snuggle my nephews and eat churros. Or watch them eat churros because they steal whatever sugary thing I try to eat.
Here's mine:
First and Fair
Charlotte, or Charlie to her friends and to the boy walking toward her, sits at a picnic table. She’s not sure if the flush she feels is from the heat of the sun or from butterflies at the idea of her first ever date. An afternoon at the state fair might not seem like a dream first date to a lot of people, but to Charlie it’s perfect. Her date’s plain black shirt and jeans doesn’t stand out in the sea of people enjoying the fair’s offerings but Charlie has no trouble following his path through the crowd.
Jacob expertly avoids elbows, bags, and running children as he makes his way to the picnic table Charlie has commandeered for them. The smell of the cinnamon and chocolate from the churros and cup in his hand mingle together and make his stomach growl. He stops just short of the table, placing the container of churros in front of Charlie so he has a hand free. Before she can reach for one, he snags one, dips it into the cup of chocolate in his hand and offers it to her.
The smile on her face is worth not having the first bite.
Oh my gosh! That last line gave me happy chills! You have such a wonderful sense of rhythm and timing, Trista. I love the details you used to paint the scene, yet those details didn't slow down the pacing. This is wonderful. Thank you so much for sharing!
My flash fiction. (about 20 minutes, start to finish)
My friend, Glory (yes, that's her actual name), says she first fell in love with her husband's eyes. Another friend, Cicely, claims her husband had a smile that shook her to her core. Amari can't quite identify what drew her to her beau, something in his demeanor that promised a little mystery and a lot of stability with a hint of mischief. Me? Oh that's easy. Melvin captured me with a churro. And chocolate.
It was at the fair. Hot, crowded, and sticky, all I wanted to do was leave, but Lainie, my sister, dragged me to the Hall of Flowers for one last look. The flowers wilted under the stifling humidity and I wilted right along with them. "Come on!" she yelled above the crowd, reaching for my elbow. "I want to see who won the theme prize." Rolling my eyes and longing for one of the snow cones I saw along the way, I allowed her to drag me through sweaty, stinky summer bodies, most of whom needed a shower desperately.
Lainie's hand slid from my arm in one particular crush of people. In that moment, I smelled something other than roasted humanity. I turned toward the fragrance of chocolate, rich and decadent. If you had told me that anything other than peppermint or lemon could cool me off, I might have laughed. But this chocolate smelled like something descended directly from heaven. There was another smell, too. Something tinged with cinnamon and sugar and definitely fried. I followed my nose, forgetting all about the Hall of Flowers.
I saw it then, a yellow cup steaming with melted chocolate, 80% cacao, according to my hyper sensitive palate. (Did you know that most of what you taste comes through smell?) In the cup was a churro, freshly pulled from hot oil, rolled in cinnamon-sugar, and handed to probably the handsomest man ever born with his chocolate. The hand holding the churro was rough and brown; this was no ordinary white-collar worker. This hand knew hard work. A churro and chocolate hardly fit the image; a cold beer and fries made more sense. But that's the problem with stereotypes: they always have a mold-breaker, and this man was it.
"Where did you get that?" My eyes focused on his hand, holding the churro as it dripped the molten liquid from the gods.
"There's a vendor around the corner." The voice was as liquid as the chocolate, and equally rich. I looked up into laughing brown eyes and a crooked smile, slightly touched with chocolate and cinnamon. "Come on, I'll show you."
LOVE LOVE LOVE!!! I was smiling from the very start. You are such an evocative writer, Stephanie. All of my sense were engaged and I felt like I was right there in the scene, watching it all unfold. Thank you so much for sharing your story with all of us!
Awwwwwww this was so dang sweet!! Here's my little piece conjured up over a little longer than 5 minutes, but I couldn't help myself :)
I don't normally write fiction, but this all popped into my head! I've been daydreaming about writing a fictional story and your churro with chocolate was a great way in! Thanks Evelyn! <3
Cookie spied the street vendor with the flashing neon sign, “CHURROS” called out to her as she wandered aimlessly along the sidewalk. What had she been thinking about just now? Oh, right, happier times. So few and far between these days. Maybe a churro will usher in a moment of joy.
The vendor had eyed the pretty brunette heading his way, she seems so sad. He willed her to look up at him, he couldn’t make out all her features, but he could tell they were delicate punctuated by a slightly pouty mouth. Just as he started to look down, she looked up and they locked eyes.
“Who is that?!” Cookie thought to herself.
“Who is she?” the vendor thought to himself.
They both timidly smiled at each other as she continued her approach.
Everyone else had disappeared.
Cookie gave a little wave and shyly walked up. “Hi” she said. Clearing his throat, seems a frog had gotten stuck there in a matter of seconds, “hello” he returned.
“May I have one of your churros? They smell divine” Cookie asked. *Who says divine?*
“Of course, anything you want!” He exclaimed. *Am I being extra loud? What is happening to my voice? Why am I sweating*
Cookie started grinning more broadly and he felt the heat rise into his cheeks. He fumbled around trying to get the churro into the wrapping, muttering to himself about his own clumsiness.
Cookie found herself chuckling softly, she could relate to his fumbles and utterances, and she found him endearing.
He handed her the churro stick and asked “Have you ever dipped a churro in melted chocolate before?”
Cookie’s eyes lit up, “no, that sounds fantastic and exactly what I need right now”.
The vendor’s own eyes lit up at how excited she was to have chocolate. He handed over the little cup full of melted goodness. She instantly dipped the churro and watched the chocolate fill the sugary ridges and drip down the sides, her mouth watered in anticipation of the first bite.
Cookie looked back up and felt a little butterfly take flight in her belly. The vendor is quite handsome she thought to herself, dark wavy hair and kind light blue eyes, wait is that a dimple. She fought the urge to poke it and then realized she’d been staring, and he was staring just as intently at her.
“Thank you so much for making this day better.” she said as she turned to leave.
Suddenly remembering she hadn’t paid she turned back and met his gaze once more, “how much?”
“For you, anything.” He responded. *Wait that’s not right, she asked how much, as in how much to pay*
“Sorry?” She inquired.
“Um, no charge for you today. You said you needed it, so it’s on the house” he sheepishly replied.
“You don’t have to do that, thank you though.” Cookie decided to leave a tip and as she went to drop a ten-dollar bill into his cup, he stopped her and touched her hand.
They both jumped at the contact and then laughed.
“I’m not usually this awkward I swear,” Cookie said giggling.
The vendor decided to take a chance. It had been a weird day full of serendipitous moments, he took this as his sign to leap.
“I’m Cookie” she said bravely, holding out her hand that wasn’t covered in sugar and chocolate.
“I’m Drew” he said and took her outstretched hand in his own. The thought repeating in both their heads - this is exactly what they both needed right this divine moment.
Mesa! I already said it in Notes where you posted it first, but this is so so lovely. I love the extra sweetness her name adds to the story (Cookie! churro! cinnamon! chocolate!)
I'm thrilled that even though you don't write fiction, this opened up an unused part of your brain and you got to play!
I'm really excited about this untapped piece of myself! I started telling my husband all about it and he encouraged me to keep going with it! He saw how lit up I am over it :) So much fun to play!! And leave a what if door open ❤️❤️
you have such a wonderful optimistic attitude. I love how you see the possibilities but don’t weigh yourself down with too much pressure as you explore!
Thank you for seeing me! I gave myself permission this year to do all the things that light me up and I think that's been a real life changer for me. It's given me the ability to see things differently :) and also embrace so much more!
So cute! Now I want to snuggle my nephews and eat churros. Or watch them eat churros because they steal whatever sugary thing I try to eat.
Here's mine:
First and Fair
Charlotte, or Charlie to her friends and to the boy walking toward her, sits at a picnic table. She’s not sure if the flush she feels is from the heat of the sun or from butterflies at the idea of her first ever date. An afternoon at the state fair might not seem like a dream first date to a lot of people, but to Charlie it’s perfect. Her date’s plain black shirt and jeans doesn’t stand out in the sea of people enjoying the fair’s offerings but Charlie has no trouble following his path through the crowd.
Jacob expertly avoids elbows, bags, and running children as he makes his way to the picnic table Charlie has commandeered for them. The smell of the cinnamon and chocolate from the churros and cup in his hand mingle together and make his stomach growl. He stops just short of the table, placing the container of churros in front of Charlie so he has a hand free. Before she can reach for one, he snags one, dips it into the cup of chocolate in his hand and offers it to her.
The smile on her face is worth not having the first bite.
Oh my gosh! That last line gave me happy chills! You have such a wonderful sense of rhythm and timing, Trista. I love the details you used to paint the scene, yet those details didn't slow down the pacing. This is wonderful. Thank you so much for sharing!
Thank you so much! I really enjoyed this prompt. And now I really need a sugary snack lol.
https://open.substack.com/pub/stephanieloomis/p/the-churro?r=46zzt&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web&showWelcomeOnShare=true
My flash fiction. (about 20 minutes, start to finish)
My friend, Glory (yes, that's her actual name), says she first fell in love with her husband's eyes. Another friend, Cicely, claims her husband had a smile that shook her to her core. Amari can't quite identify what drew her to her beau, something in his demeanor that promised a little mystery and a lot of stability with a hint of mischief. Me? Oh that's easy. Melvin captured me with a churro. And chocolate.
It was at the fair. Hot, crowded, and sticky, all I wanted to do was leave, but Lainie, my sister, dragged me to the Hall of Flowers for one last look. The flowers wilted under the stifling humidity and I wilted right along with them. "Come on!" she yelled above the crowd, reaching for my elbow. "I want to see who won the theme prize." Rolling my eyes and longing for one of the snow cones I saw along the way, I allowed her to drag me through sweaty, stinky summer bodies, most of whom needed a shower desperately.
Lainie's hand slid from my arm in one particular crush of people. In that moment, I smelled something other than roasted humanity. I turned toward the fragrance of chocolate, rich and decadent. If you had told me that anything other than peppermint or lemon could cool me off, I might have laughed. But this chocolate smelled like something descended directly from heaven. There was another smell, too. Something tinged with cinnamon and sugar and definitely fried. I followed my nose, forgetting all about the Hall of Flowers.
I saw it then, a yellow cup steaming with melted chocolate, 80% cacao, according to my hyper sensitive palate. (Did you know that most of what you taste comes through smell?) In the cup was a churro, freshly pulled from hot oil, rolled in cinnamon-sugar, and handed to probably the handsomest man ever born with his chocolate. The hand holding the churro was rough and brown; this was no ordinary white-collar worker. This hand knew hard work. A churro and chocolate hardly fit the image; a cold beer and fries made more sense. But that's the problem with stereotypes: they always have a mold-breaker, and this man was it.
"Where did you get that?" My eyes focused on his hand, holding the churro as it dripped the molten liquid from the gods.
"There's a vendor around the corner." The voice was as liquid as the chocolate, and equally rich. I looked up into laughing brown eyes and a crooked smile, slightly touched with chocolate and cinnamon. "Come on, I'll show you."
I never got to the Hall of Flowers.
LOVE LOVE LOVE!!! I was smiling from the very start. You are such an evocative writer, Stephanie. All of my sense were engaged and I felt like I was right there in the scene, watching it all unfold. Thank you so much for sharing your story with all of us!
Thank you!!!! I'm insecure about fiction--I was a journalist and academic!
a good writer is a good writer!!
I like the turn in the story!
aww thank you, Barb!
A darling short story and so very much… my life. Thanks for the reminder of the magic of stories lying in wait right where we are!
I'm glad this felt real to you, Kristine! I still remember the days when my daughter was my little shadow. :)