So I dropped a soda.

That is the summary of the story I am about to tell you. You need no further read if you need no more.



This story begins, stories do, at the end of another. In this case, it was the end of the story of the perfect burger. So juicy and fried to perfection, laced with onions within and without, with a cheese of a common variety heated to perfection and a fresh leaf of lettuce cloaking the patty, with buns of wheat crowning either side. But this is not that story. This is the story of a soda. A soda I dropped. With two cans in one hand, and the victim in another, I arose from a halfcrouch already aware that my grip on this most recent can was precariously close to what would come. I rose, and the can fell. I could feel the world stop. That happens, you know, when calamity comes. With the rise of tidal waves and avalanches, the world of man halts to consider the truth of all things, the end of our times. And it happened too here, and I thought, with no particular malice or fear. “no wait shit fuck damn fuuuck” And the can fell. No, to say the can fell is inaccurate. The can plummeted in a way no object or animal has ever been able to replicate save for the animal to whome it comes most naturally. It fell like a cat, somehow spinning, spiralling, twisting itself in a way that nature did not intend but would commend for it’s sheer impossibility. Out of my hand, past a roll of mapping paper, and into the long worn tiles of a loved and well used kitchen. And it burst with such absolute violence for a moment my only thoughts were that I really wish I could re-load my last save. I will not attempt to describe the range of the burst, for to believe me would be to remember what it was like to believe in the toothfairy and santa clause. To believe in fairy circles and the pirates of a box. Suffice to say that from where I stood in the pantry of my domicile I heard my cooling frying pan sizzle as droplets fell upon it. The aftermath was a warzone of fake flavoring and sugars. I knew it was the end of me, and even still I wielded cloth and paper towel against it. And I cannot say that I won. I do not believe that there is any victor in war. The damage was done, dreams defered. Stains… stains that will never fade. But I soldiered on, cleaning as I could where I could. And in the end, I survived. But I am not unchanged. I have seen my doom. I know inevitability. Such is fate. I resign myself. I loved you, Cherry Cola. I know you didn’t want this. You couldn’t have known. I will remember you fondly.