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Spilled Milk

“Cut!” The directors voice echoed against the stone walls. Booming along the megaphone pressed against his face. “That’s a wrap.” He lowered the megaphone.

Cathy stepped through the revolving glass door and the crisp air bit her face. The New York smell made her cringe. She still hadn't gotten used to the big city. It wasn't anything like her home back in Green Bay. She reaches her hand out palm facing the oncoming traffic, a taxi swerves over and sputters to a halt.

“Where to?” The driver in the hat said, his voice soothing and undeniably calm in the midst of a crazed sea of cars and people alike. 

“The Plaza. Get me home quick.” Her impatience was growing as she had forgotten her lines at rehearsal, she’d never hear the end of it.

“We’re here ma’am. Boy that was a taxing drive” smiling from ear to ear

“Excuse me” Irritated she replied

“Nothing. Sorry to ruin your cheery mood.” He mumbled under his breath

“Don’t quit your day job.” She remarks and slammed the door shut.

He jets off and scuffs the road behind him. She pouts her way up the steep driveway. One blond strand of her highlighted brown hair swept across her face. As the wind picks up she buries herself in her coat and races inside. She closes the door and sighs. Looking around the apartment she wished felt more like home. She plopped down on the couch and wrestles the blanket her grandma knitted right before she passed. A distant meow as her cat, Mr Whiskers, loomed in her bedroom doorway. He quickly bound over and leaped up to the couch. She pet him till her eyes started to sink feeling as heavy as bowling balls. 

She awoke with a jolt, flustered and startled she rips the blanket off and jumps off the couch. Mr Whiskers still curled up in his usual position. The phone rang. 3 sharp blasts pierced her ears as she stands frozen in the still living room. She walked over toward the phone methodically and said hello in a voice no louder than a whisper. Telemarketer. She wondered how they even got her number considering she just moved here and was still adjusting to life in the  Big Apple instead of the “Big Cheese”. Shaking her head of those thoughts, she moved to the kitchen for dinner.

It’s already 9 o’clock and her stomach growls and her mind wanders back to thinking about the Wisconsin cheese she left back at her parents. She loved it there, her first and only home. She was born and bred there, but after high school she got a scholarship offer from NYC. So she packed a single bag and moved out here. But after 4 years at NYC, she's fresh out of college and fresh out of money. Being an actress never seemed harder for her. She shook her head again, trying to get the memories off her mind, but she was glued to them. After reminiscing about her old life, how much she missed it, she lost her appetite. She was still in her clothes, and she hadn't brushed her teeth or put on her retainers, but she moped into her room and laid on top of her bed and all the blankets. She didn't even call for Mr Whiskers.

Her alarm buzzed at 7:15. She was supposed to be up at 7 o'clock sharp. She rushed into her bathroom, her hair looked like someone had used it to practice tying their shoes and her breath smelled so bad even the mirror gags. She had no time to make muscles in the mirror. Sliding on the hardwood floors beaten up by the previous owner. Her clumsy self hitting the half wall as she glides by Mr Whiskers who awoke to her feet pounding the floors. She spins into the kitchen and snags the fridge handle. Searching for the milk she then screamed an “Ah!” as she located the carton of 2% milk right in front of her face, her cheeks pink with stress. Her eyes split directions and her mind struggles to think of where she keeps the bowls. Mr Whiskers hops his way onto the countertop. His paws thump thumping on the granite and his claws leave a trail. Shouting at him she reached into the cabinet that he smacked with his tail. She twisted off the top as she readsthe label that reads “Mar 10”. The milk spilled into the plastic bowl and rocked back and forth crashing into the sides of the bowl like waves crashing onto the white sand at Waikiki Beach. She picked at the box and peeled the top open. The frosted flakes bag tore and they flew in every direction. She dumped the remains in her milk filled bowl. She yanked open a drawer and plucked a spoon from the lineup of silverware.

In her room she looked for fresh clothes to wear so she picked the freshest pair she can find from the hamper, and throws them on. Running back to the kitchen like her life depended on it she arrives to find Mr Whiskers licking her cereal and splashing it everywhere. “No!! That was for me!” Scooting him off the table she goes back to get her purse on the couch.

Clank. The spoon hit the floor. Cathy turned the corner and looks perplexed as she stared down at the spoon that somehow levitated itself from the milky flakes to the wooden floor. 

“Cole!!” The spoon beckoned

“Bruce did it work!” The bowl called out

“Get into position” Mr Whiskers meows.

The plan is in action. With Mr Whiskers in charge, Bruce Spoon and Cole Bowl on the ground and in the air they are ready to attack. They are planning to strike against their human Cathy. Their plan will drive her crazy as the spoon, bowl and cat tiptoe along the lines of sanity. 

Cathy laid on the ground unmoving for hours and again awoke unexpectedly. She bangs her head on the freezer door and finds her shirt is drenched. The stench reeks of milk. Her vision is blurred as she tries to blink it away. Putting her hands up to her face and splashing cold sink water into her eyes. When she lifts her head back, her hand grasps her neck, and it looks a shade darker than the rest. Its swollen, she makes her way to the freezer for some ice but as she cracks open the door, Mr whiskers lunges at her meowing. She blinks hard and stumbles backwards losing balance and her breath. Her hands pressed together smashed clutching the sink handle. Mr Whiskers rolled over on his stomach, Cathy always pets his stomach, but she hasn't moved. Her eyes are locked beyond the cat. The entire wall is covered with spoons plastered to it. Eyes as wide as the grand canyon she stepped out of the bathroom and backed up into the front door. Her eyes gazing from side to side looking for more surprises. She clenched her leggings and put her hand on the door, keeping her back pressed against it. She reached for her boots, but instead she opened the laundry room door and finds all of her jeans bundled up, smashed together and she simply closed the door. She hesitantly waved goodbye to Mr Whiskers and cracks a smile. The key turns and she cranks the door lock. The sound of metal clicking made her spine tingle. Cathy scurried down the slanted driveway. She looked to her left right and then back left. Cole Bowl was laying upside down on the pavement. Nearby there was a puddle, but Cathy noticed it’s white. She bent down and dipped her finger into the puddle. She recognized the smell. It was the smell of her stained shirt. The one that was drenched in milk. The date is March 12. The milk is rotten. 

“Okay class what do we think?” The teacher asks

“All that over some spilled milk?” A student replies.


“Spilled milk indeed” The teacher turned to the board.

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