Chocolate Cake

Chocolate Cake

By Lloyd Blunden

I awoke this morning to a glistening trickle of sunlight, as it somewhat pervertedly peeped into my den. Her warm, inviting rays soon eroded the initial agitation (who dares interrupt my sleep?), and instead filled me with a glow of enthusiasm and the gentle inner contempt that only morning sunshine can deliver. It’s a new day. And the world has never been so bright.

Like I said, I awoke. It didn’t take long for my usual smile to spread across my face. Ear to ear. I could feel the crisp early morning breeze bite at my teeth. I could see my hot breath at the end of my nose as my lungs vacuumed it from deep within me, and expelled it into the atmosphere, allowing me to briefly acknowledge its presence before it magically vanished completely, making way for the next breath.

I arose and stepped out from the confinements of my safe and cosy den, shook myself off, treated myself to a couple of big stretches, took one long stare at the glorious view from my front door (which I like to do every morning just to remind myself just how lucky I am), and proceeded to stroll down the hill towards town. Today was a very important day. Today was Friday, and any dog that knows his worth knows what that means.

The trail into town isn’t particularly long. It allows for a meandering, whimsical kind of stroll. A perfect-start-to-the-day kind of stroll. The dirt is starting to warm beneath my tough, calloused paws and the occasional breeze manages to burrow itself into my luscious, thick, chocolate brown coat, giving me a little refreshment as I go. I can hear the neighbouring stream trickle away, tinkering, as it runs alongside my trail. I have never heard stars before, but if they do make a sound, this stream is what I imagine them to sound like, for there is simply no more a beautiful sound.

This is where I stopped at the stream’s bank. This is where I always stop. The bank drops away and I can easily drop my head and drink. The icy, crystal clear water has a sensational taste. It’s delicate yet strengthening, cold yet embracing. With each and every lap of the water, I feel energised and invigorated. Its simply the best stream in the entire world. I have no doubt about this, and I implore you, if you ever visit, you simply must try it.

Once I had satisfied my thirst, I continued down the trail to the mouth of the path, where it opened up to meet the town. A small town I believe, although I have not visited many others, I know their must be more out there. I sat on the edge of the road there for a few minutes and planned my operation. For this was Friday.

As I sat, I took in the sights, sounds and smells that gravitated my way. The streets were always relatively quiet at such an early point in the day. The inhabitants always wake slightly later than I do, maybe it has something to do with living in those large buildings. I’ve never been in one, but I’m pretty sure I ‘ll always prefer my den. The first car of the day glided smoothly past me as I sat watching the slowly waking world. It was a small red one, driven by a little old man that could barely see over the steering wheel. I heard it long before I saw it, it sounded harsh and rough, like the chesty cough of an aged lifelong smoker. Every few yards it would go off like a gunshot, causing me to jolt upright in my seat. I watched it as it disappeared around the next corner.

I took a deep breath (noticing it was no longer visible as it escaped my mouth) and looked back across the road. That’s when I saw her. Well, she was hard to miss, if I’m going to be honest. I think she was a Labrador, or maybe a Retriever. Perhaps even a large Corgi. Whatever she was, she created a whirlwind within me. My tail started to wag uncontrollably, dusting the pavement with it at a lightning speed. My heart rate exploded, forcing my blood to coarse through my veins as if going into battle for a final time. My tongue had previously sat comfortably tucked away in my mouth. Now it had rolled all the way out, unravelling like a carpet, and the sheer amount of saliva I was producing denied me any attempt to get it back in. What’s more, I kept producing a very high-pitched whimper, one that I hadn’t heard before, so much so that a little voice in my head was quietly suggesting ‘it can’t be me making that noise, can it?’. She just did things to me. I yearned for her. I needed her. Her natural grace, her goddess aura, her undeniably beautiful presence. She was like a painting or piece of art. I have seen stars, and I know they are simply as beautiful as she is.

And then she was gone. Led into one of the nearby buildings by the man that had her on a lead. A brief tickle of disappointment entered my subconscious before another thought came to mind. Its Friday. I stood up and trotted across the quiet street.

I cantered the next block, dodging a few people as I went, not stopping too regularly (except to retain one of the many trees I own in the area), and all the while I was in complete focus. I was conjuring up a plan to win my prize.

I rounded the next corner. I stopped across the street from a row of high street stores. I’d reached my destination.

Over the road were three stores. Harold’s Hardware Store and Mick’s Mechanics I had very little to no interest in. No. I was interested in the one on the end. Its candy floss pink paint had been peeling away for years, and the windows bore a hughey, grey tint as if wiped with a dirty dishcloth. It aired a sense of fatigue and exhaustion. A building that was tired and ready for a nap after working so very hard for the past 100yrs, having given the shopkeepers such sturdy walls and solid foundations to operate their business within. However, the display in the window said otherwise.

An array of colours! Pinks! Blues! Creams! They looked as sweet as they probably tasted. Mouth-watering visuals of cakes, cookies, jamtarts, custard creams, doughnuts, croissants, buns, whizzpops and fizzbangs, all just just waiting to be greedily devoured by the hungry customers that had already started the daily queue to collect such deliciousness. This was Batty Brenda’s Bakery. This was my target.

I looked both ways before crossing the street. Still there was very little traffic. I walked right past the front door and headed down the small alleyway to adjacent side. This was the service alley. Not many know about it. For if they had, I’m sure more people would attempt what I am about do.

I stealthily glided down the mossy, cobbled alleyway. I was on high alert, my body primed. I knew that to make a wrong step or give any clue to my whereabouts would proceed in my position being compromised and the operation deemed a failure. I was halfway down the alleyway when the smell wafted over me.

It was the warmest, sweetest smell I’d ever smelt. It penetrated my nostrils, although not cruelly, but with a loving caress. It was a smell that took over my senses, stopping me in my tracks and sending me into a dizzying coma of blissful enjoyment. Oh my, what a heavenly smell. I have never smelt stars before, but I’m sure that that this is what they would smell like.

The low gurgle of my stomach brought me from my lucid dreaming and I proceeded down the remainder of the alleyway. As I came to the rear of Batty Brenda’s Bakery I hid behind a large bin, deciding it better to do some recon before making my move.

I could see plenty of movement, for the rear of the shop opened through a large sliding door into the kitchen then onto the front of house. From where I was positioned, I could see the whole way through the bakery. From the back to the front. And the best part was, not a single soul was facing my way. Not one.

That’s when I saw it. My target. Perched on a window ledge, trying to cool down enough to get ready to be iced. A huge, monstrous, bigger-than-you-can-eat-all-at-once Batty Brenda’s Famous Chocolate Cake. It sat 4 layers high; deep, fluffy chocolate sponge layers, with the softest, lightest butter icing and rich, smooth chocolate sauce to top off each level. The secret ingredient was Batty Brenda’s homemade, double chocolate fudge sauce she melts over the entire thing to finish, in a glorious, sticky glaze. My body reacted to this the same it did to the angel from across the street earlier. I could barely hold my emotions in check.

I decided enough was enough, and I crawled forward, grinding my belly hard against the dirt in a desperate bid to evade any detection. Once level with the cake, I took one last glance at the inner workings of the bakery to ensure no one had spotted me, tilted my weight back onto my hind legs and stood upright, balancing preciously straight upright. From this vantage point I could see that a large slice of chocolate cake had already been sold! I was both disappointed and ecstatic I had arrived when I had.

With one swift paw I pulled on the cake plate and sent the glorious beauty hurtling to the ground. That’s when I heard the first shout. It sounded angry. Menacing even. I didn’t even know what was said. I opened my jaws as wide as I could and seized the entirety of the cake, and took off at lightning speed back down the alley, just as something smashed above my left ear against the neighbouring brick wall. More yells and hurried footsteps this time. I bounded off as fast as dared down the cobbled alley without looking back. I could hear they were in pursuit.

I rounded out the back of the alley to find a mob of customers in my way. Dodging, darting and dipping between, under and over their legs I managed to cut through the crowd and get into some fresh air. This is when it hit me, the taste. I had been in full flight mode, so scared of being caught, I had not noticed the taste of the cake that lay dangling in my mouth. Now though, there was no denying it. I have never tasted stars before, but now I know what they taste like.

The flavours came pouring into my mouth, spurring my sprint to freedom on. I was running on cloud nine. I had entered a magnificent flow state, every movement was perfect, every paw placement flawless, my breathing calm, yet my senses completely enflamed. I had gone primal. The enjoyment and excitement starting to elate within me. My legs were galloping like lightning-fast pistons, and my ears pinned to the top of my head, as if invisible hands clutched at them in a bid try to yank me back to my pursuers.

I rounded the final corner and onto the home straight back into the mouth of the trail, away from town. As I darted across the final road, and finally felt the dirt path beneath my burning paws, the constant smile on my face spread bigger, much bigger, than ever before.