Vernix’s Amazing Nachos

Timothy walked around the corner only to realize that he had just walked around another corner. There were more corners in front of him, though he could only see one. Each corner led to the next and the next, and so on. He could smell the cheese; nachos.

Timothy hated going to Vernix’s house. Vernix had double-majored in architecture and psychology, and his custom built home reflected his brain’s abnormal structure. The hallway from the front door to the living room is an actual maze; literally. Once you ring the doorbell, you are admitted by a buzzer – well, the buzzer sounds more like a bell; Pavlovian (“Ha,ha, Vernix!"). It goes something like this: you ring the doorbell, Vernix buzzes (sounds like a bell) you in, the door opens, the smell of Vernix’s signature dish – the nachos – wafts down from a vent, Vernix begins the timer, and you start making your way through the maze. The thing is: Vernix’s nachos are amazing! So, the second you smell them you are determined to find your way through the maze, no matter how long it takes. The walls are moveable, so each visit to Vernix’s presents you with a new maze.

Timothy once took thirty seven minutes to finish the maze; he missed the first quarter of the Super Bowl. His best time is one-minute thirty seconds. Timothy has been coming to Vernix’s every Sunday for three years; his average time is three minutes forty-two seconds.

Today, Vernix installed mirrored walls, as well as a replica living room – giving Tim a false sense of victory – and once he touched the bowl of nachos in the middle of the room, the room began to collapse in and Timothy was forced out of what would have been the bathroom door in the actual living room. But, he didn’t end up in the bathroom – he was back in the foyer, facing the actual front door.

So, Timothy just gave up. He opened the front door to leave and stepped into the actual living room (“Nice one, Vernix!")!

The nachos were the best yet.

The fire

The fire waxed. Then, it waned. A cool, autumn breeze blew by. The fire waned, again. It breathed; a hot breath. It was red, then orange. There was…the smallest hint of blue; a tinge. It reached, stretched toward the sky. It was…warm. It longed…for fuel. It was dying to stay alive.

A pile of wood lie nearby…waiting…to help, to be the fuel…to help.

The fire waxed. It waned, again. Surrounded by a ring of rocks, then dirt, then benches, then…forest; a dark forest. There was a hum. A humming. Coming from…somewhere. A car? Idling? Maybe.

No, an airplane; overhead.

The fire fell. Now…only smoldering. Choking. Coals glowing. Red hot coals pulsing…with life? Crackling. Footsteps? On leaves? No, the coals.

The fire settled, cooled. The fire resigned. Was resigning? Yes? A shadow…no…a darkness surrounded one coal, then two, then all. Heat escaped…or, was escaping; rapidly. Darkness fell all around. Popping? The coals. The heat…embers inside the dark coals bursting to be free. Pressure. A few more…pop…pop…crack…yes, even a snap.

Snap. Snap. Snap.

Eyes? A raccoon? A possum? A deer. Two deer. Approached…were approaching. Then, they finished approaching and stood…sniffed…were sniffing…no…yes…were sniffing the coals. Their antlers clashed…ah…were clashing…their antlers, clashing together, scraping.

Pop. Pop. Pop.

The fire. It was startling…to the deer…the popping…they ran…were running…away.

The fire was out. Completely out; cold. It was.