A Troublesome Snack

Category A: Highly Commended (2023) Monash Short Story Writing Competition
Author: Jagan Vinod

The orange continued to make me redden with embarrassment. It had a smug look about it, I thought. One could not look upon this particular orange without considerable fury. This was not due to any personal resentment, but rather a general dislike for something that was so invariably smug.

Adding to my anger was that the orange had indeed made this a personal matter. It had accomplished this by causing me numerous injuries in my journey to retrieve it from the top shelf, much too high for a six-year-old like myself. My first attempt failed as I leaped into the air and slammed my hand upon the ridge where it lay. The shelf shook, and the orange rolled into a cereal box. The box spilled its contents to the hardwood floor of the kitchen. My prize teetered impossibly close to the edge of the shelf above me. I was thus confronted by an incredibly sore hand and a kitchen covered in Choco Pops, with nothing to show for it.

A plan struck me as I saw my sister’s magic wand on the couch. Surely it could help me bring down the orange! My sister could perform wonders with that wand, like causing little foam rabbits to vanish into a hat. A simple job such as this would be easy for a wand of such power.

I grabbed the wand and carried it to the kitchen to test its magical prowess. I brandished it at the offending fruit and yelled for it to surrender. The orange remained steadfast. I admired its courage; such a brave enemy was quite worthy of the wand. Throwing my arm back, I cast a spell to shatter the shelf. I brought it forward and waited in anticipation.

Eyes closed, frozen in a lunging motion, I waited for the enchantment to take effect. I heard a strong gust of wind sweeping in through the window adjacent to the shelf. My eyes fluttered open, just in time to see the falling orange. I was clouded with confusion; for I had not cast a spell of wind. The wand must be sentient, to know a wind spell would be just as effective. I grabbed the orange from the floor and sat down, content to slowly enjoy it.

I looked outside through an open window vaguely while I chewed on slices of the glorious fruit, and saw the bumper of a car entering the driveway. The enormity of this failed to register with me, until I saw my mother behind the wheel. Icicles spread throughout my body as I slowly took in the ruined living room, with cereal spread like a carpet across the ground. Maybe she would understand, if she heard of my perilous journey to retrieve the orange. 

But it really wasn’t worth the chance. I ran off into my room and closed my door just as a cry of fury from my mother chilled my blood. 

“DANIELLLLL!”