with her hands covered with mittens, she opened the oven and pulled out a pan with a loaf of spice bread in it. it was wafting with aromas. soon the whole kitchen was filled in its scent.
her grandson of five years of age came up to her, tugging at her skirt as she laid the spice bread on the wooden table. “grandmama, what are you making?” he asked.
“i’m making spice bread, my dear.”
“what is spice bread made out of?” he asked, as he was handed a slice.
“flour, eggs, spices, milk.” she said.
“but it tastes so good. it can’t be those ingredients. what else did you put in there?” he pleaded.
she then winked at him. “love” she said as she gave him a big warm hug.
he smiled, kissed her cheek, and ran off, completely satisfied with the answer she had given him.
Sara de Souza
He pulled the muffins out of the oven and set them on the table. “Dinner is served,” he said. No one answered. No one came. He repeated it. “Dinner is served!” There was no one there.
dave
When the computer chips squeezes in lot and lot more of technology into it so as our world has become.We forget our identification and people do what they feel which would give them a fake western look and worthless bauble.
rams
It’s cold, it’s very cold. I’ve sliced my best friend and put him into the oven. His meat was raw and now it looks crispy and yellowish. I can’t wait to smell it. The oven was rusty and so was my friend.
Cristina
i opened the oven only to find my dead cat inside. whether she was dead before the oven or after the oven i do not know. i didn’t think. i just shut the door. someone else will know what to do i thought.
i went over to my neighbor’s house. he was watching tv. i didn’t ask him anything or tell him about the cat.
andrea
Easy-bake… advertising’s effects grasps us at a very young age. Pity. It’s nothing like real baking.
Kendra
What’s burning? It’s just the lasagna boiling over. There is some sauce landing on the bottom of the oven. Is it a lot? No.
When I open the oven door smoke comes pouring out. The fire alarm goes off even though the windows are open and the vent is running on high.
I burned the cheese. The lasagna doesn’t look good.
Christine
Sometimes with life gets me, I feel like I’m in an oven.. seething, sweating and red with heat. My button has not yet popped, signaling that I am done.
Tracey Loftis
i wanna bake something today…delicious
musa
The gas hissed as mother sat in front of the oven. She had cookie dough on a sheet, but no flames heated them. In the crib, her child lay still. He would never eat the cookies.
And neither would she.
Steven Saus
Standing before it, I think of the warm embrace of fresh-baked cookies, the juicy tang of roasting turkey, the burned crunch of neglected toast, and sudden a gaunt man in ragged stripes, a tarnished cloth star sewn to his heart, slowly climbing in and with a last look, closing the door behind him.
Brian Slusher
The bird was in the oven. Ma Smith peered through the thick safety glass, trying to gauge its doneness. It wouldn’t do to have an overcooked turkey, not when twenty mouths were expecting yet another juicy delectable feast they had come to expect from Ma Smith every Thanksgiving.
~willow~
I waited, waited, waited. It seemed like an age. I sat down and slowly sank into the smoothe sand. I gently rested my head and let it sink down too. It felt like being in a silk oven, so hot, so smoothe.
Liddle
I turned the oven on just as a puff of smoke emerged from the sink. Ignoring the smoke, I pulled the oven door open–just to check. And, of course, there was water sitting on the bottom of it. With a tiny critter sitting in the water, complete with the tiniest bath brush in hand as it scrubbed its back.
Mousewriter
something very hot – home for a meal or two
J.
bake
freelance
cake! pizza!
Anonymous
the beauty of a hot place such as this. Once powered by the sun now it is a place where great masterpieces of edible consumable pasteries and such are created with delicacy and pride. Unless you have one like mine which never works like it’s supposed to. the gass goes off and everything gets over burned if not underdone.
Amy
oven
rocxy
Ovens are good for many things. But ultimately it is the evil they cause that disturbs me. How many times have bodies of midgets and microscopic birds ended up in ovens? Too many to count! I’m personally sick of it!
zuthas
Della put the chops on the oven and sat beside Jim with a queer grin on her face, her face so fair, almost cut of the purest of marble….
Santanu
hot and boiling and the place I’d least like to be right now. It felt like this every day here. But today I’m leaving this place for somewhere cold. Maybe the antarctic. It’s crazy to live in a place like that which who was shoved into an oven in the children’s fary story. How grusome. a childrens story? with someone getting into an oven> that’s terrible.
Amy
cakes, pies, pastries. the place where i can make delicious goods to make my mouth water and my dress size increase by the minute.
Anonymous
im not much of a baker, with things involving food I very much prefer to cook on the stove. I do love cooking although I am by no means a chef. If i get hit with inspiration, it can go one of two ways, i will either way overdo it, or it will a fantastic evening
Dana
AN OVEN WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO SAY ABOUT AN OVEN.
OH SHIT, UHM YOU CAN COOK THINGS IN AN OVEN…
LET ME TELL YOU WHAT UNTIL MY TIME RUNS OUT:
ROAST
PIES (THEY’RE GOOD)
PIZZA
MY LIFE.
I’UNNO.
KBYE (:
lauren
what is oven? is it like toster oven? mmm i’m not so good in english and my vocavilery is suck, i hope i will do well when i will get to an enlgish leacg
MR G
I’ve often thought on the memory of you and me
I knew that I had us figured out
The day the world went away
And the moment life turned grey
A colorless adventure
belhdslkfj
The bun’s in the oven. Pops into my mind when I see a pregnant woman.
Hmmmm remember to switch it off when not in use. And yes, consumes a lot of electricity.
Sowmiya
I guess is world is changing so fast that it represents itself just like an oven which cooks the food very fast. The pace of the world is just like the pace of an oven.
Fresh Oven
I turned on the oven and checked to make sure I hadn’t left anything inside. The last time I’d tried to bake cookies, I’d ended up also accidentally baking a bunch of pots and pans.
The smell of burning plastic? Not as appetizing as the smell of homemade cookies, let me tell you. And I wanted the smell of cookies. I needed the comfort. Even if I couldn’t eat them, I could at least smell them.
Gimmemocha@yahoo.com
She put the frozen pizza into the oven, ignoring the cries of the boys behind her. She sighed. The world is no longer perfect without him. Her, as a single-parent… How in the world can she survive? The world is dead to her now.
Judy
It was unbearably hot. She was baking in the summer heat like a helpless apple cobbler in mama’s oven, sweating to the oldies and evaporating all those nasty carbohydrates and sugars and deluge of needless fluids. How could people stand it in Southern California? She was such a Washingtonian.
Chanceless
The oven was hot. She pressed herself against it. The heat flowed through her veins. Her toes were like icicles. Suddenly she jumped back. Too much. Too hot. She looked at her red e
Chunky Joe
bun is cooked and starts eating in the front open porch in the sunlight
fair
i should go to the oven so that the fire can take me away. I am s frustrated. My midterm result is so bad that I have never imagined, i hate myself, maybe i did not tried my best or maybe i am a real dump
Anonymous
heat all over, raging through me. I am roughed, burnt and cooked. Parched for water, drenched in butter. Such is the fate of me, a mere quiche, in the giant, burning world of the OVEN.
Jane
Warm like an oven, she held him close. He baked in her radiance, fried in her presence. Carbon monoxide choked him. The temperature rose in degrees until he was burnt, ashen, gray.
Lenny
Ovens are places where some people go to die. It’s so strange that that’s my first thought. I think most people would think of baking, I mean, that only makes sense. Ovens. People make art in ovens. all kinds of it. Edible, beautiful, fragile art. That’s pretty cool. I wish I were a better chef. I love food. It’s pretty great.
Erica Clayton
the oven is an amazing place full of heat and helps cook amazing items which people can devour and love so terribly so that only words can express how much the taste of the treats makes the world feel so much happier.
with her hands covered with mittens, she opened the oven and pulled out a pan with a loaf of spice bread in it. it was wafting with aromas. soon the whole kitchen was filled in its scent.
her grandson of five years of age came up to her, tugging at her skirt as she laid the spice bread on the wooden table. “grandmama, what are you making?” he asked.
“i’m making spice bread, my dear.”
“what is spice bread made out of?” he asked, as he was handed a slice.
“flour, eggs, spices, milk.” she said.
“but it tastes so good. it can’t be those ingredients. what else did you put in there?” he pleaded.
she then winked at him. “love” she said as she gave him a big warm hug.
he smiled, kissed her cheek, and ran off, completely satisfied with the answer she had given him.
He pulled the muffins out of the oven and set them on the table. “Dinner is served,” he said. No one answered. No one came. He repeated it. “Dinner is served!” There was no one there.
When the computer chips squeezes in lot and lot more of technology into it so as our world has become.We forget our identification and people do what they feel which would give them a fake western look and worthless bauble.
It’s cold, it’s very cold. I’ve sliced my best friend and put him into the oven. His meat was raw and now it looks crispy and yellowish. I can’t wait to smell it. The oven was rusty and so was my friend.
i opened the oven only to find my dead cat inside. whether she was dead before the oven or after the oven i do not know. i didn’t think. i just shut the door. someone else will know what to do i thought.
i went over to my neighbor’s house. he was watching tv. i didn’t ask him anything or tell him about the cat.
Easy-bake… advertising’s effects grasps us at a very young age. Pity. It’s nothing like real baking.
What’s burning? It’s just the lasagna boiling over. There is some sauce landing on the bottom of the oven. Is it a lot? No.
When I open the oven door smoke comes pouring out. The fire alarm goes off even though the windows are open and the vent is running on high.
I burned the cheese. The lasagna doesn’t look good.
Sometimes with life gets me, I feel like I’m in an oven.. seething, sweating and red with heat. My button has not yet popped, signaling that I am done.
i wanna bake something today…delicious
The gas hissed as mother sat in front of the oven. She had cookie dough on a sheet, but no flames heated them. In the crib, her child lay still. He would never eat the cookies.
And neither would she.
Standing before it, I think of the warm embrace of fresh-baked cookies, the juicy tang of roasting turkey, the burned crunch of neglected toast, and sudden a gaunt man in ragged stripes, a tarnished cloth star sewn to his heart, slowly climbing in and with a last look, closing the door behind him.
The bird was in the oven. Ma Smith peered through the thick safety glass, trying to gauge its doneness. It wouldn’t do to have an overcooked turkey, not when twenty mouths were expecting yet another juicy delectable feast they had come to expect from Ma Smith every Thanksgiving.
I waited, waited, waited. It seemed like an age. I sat down and slowly sank into the smoothe sand. I gently rested my head and let it sink down too. It felt like being in a silk oven, so hot, so smoothe.
I turned the oven on just as a puff of smoke emerged from the sink. Ignoring the smoke, I pulled the oven door open–just to check. And, of course, there was water sitting on the bottom of it. With a tiny critter sitting in the water, complete with the tiniest bath brush in hand as it scrubbed its back.
something very hot – home for a meal or two
bake
cake! pizza!
the beauty of a hot place such as this. Once powered by the sun now it is a place where great masterpieces of edible consumable pasteries and such are created with delicacy and pride. Unless you have one like mine which never works like it’s supposed to. the gass goes off and everything gets over burned if not underdone.
oven
Ovens are good for many things. But ultimately it is the evil they cause that disturbs me. How many times have bodies of midgets and microscopic birds ended up in ovens? Too many to count! I’m personally sick of it!
Della put the chops on the oven and sat beside Jim with a queer grin on her face, her face so fair, almost cut of the purest of marble….
hot and boiling and the place I’d least like to be right now. It felt like this every day here. But today I’m leaving this place for somewhere cold. Maybe the antarctic. It’s crazy to live in a place like that which who was shoved into an oven in the children’s fary story. How grusome. a childrens story? with someone getting into an oven> that’s terrible.
cakes, pies, pastries. the place where i can make delicious goods to make my mouth water and my dress size increase by the minute.
im not much of a baker, with things involving food I very much prefer to cook on the stove. I do love cooking although I am by no means a chef. If i get hit with inspiration, it can go one of two ways, i will either way overdo it, or it will a fantastic evening
AN OVEN WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO SAY ABOUT AN OVEN.
OH SHIT, UHM YOU CAN COOK THINGS IN AN OVEN…
LET ME TELL YOU WHAT UNTIL MY TIME RUNS OUT:
ROAST
PIES (THEY’RE GOOD)
PIZZA
MY LIFE.
I’UNNO.
KBYE (:
what is oven? is it like toster oven? mmm i’m not so good in english and my vocavilery is suck, i hope i will do well when i will get to an enlgish leacg
I’ve often thought on the memory of you and me
I knew that I had us figured out
The day the world went away
And the moment life turned grey
A colorless adventure
The bun’s in the oven. Pops into my mind when I see a pregnant woman.
Hmmmm remember to switch it off when not in use. And yes, consumes a lot of electricity.
I guess is world is changing so fast that it represents itself just like an oven which cooks the food very fast. The pace of the world is just like the pace of an oven.
I turned on the oven and checked to make sure I hadn’t left anything inside. The last time I’d tried to bake cookies, I’d ended up also accidentally baking a bunch of pots and pans.
The smell of burning plastic? Not as appetizing as the smell of homemade cookies, let me tell you. And I wanted the smell of cookies. I needed the comfort. Even if I couldn’t eat them, I could at least smell them.
She put the frozen pizza into the oven, ignoring the cries of the boys behind her. She sighed. The world is no longer perfect without him. Her, as a single-parent… How in the world can she survive? The world is dead to her now.
It was unbearably hot. She was baking in the summer heat like a helpless apple cobbler in mama’s oven, sweating to the oldies and evaporating all those nasty carbohydrates and sugars and deluge of needless fluids. How could people stand it in Southern California? She was such a Washingtonian.
The oven was hot. She pressed herself against it. The heat flowed through her veins. Her toes were like icicles. Suddenly she jumped back. Too much. Too hot. She looked at her red e
bun is cooked and starts eating in the front open porch in the sunlight
i should go to the oven so that the fire can take me away. I am s frustrated. My midterm result is so bad that I have never imagined, i hate myself, maybe i did not tried my best or maybe i am a real dump
heat all over, raging through me. I am roughed, burnt and cooked. Parched for water, drenched in butter. Such is the fate of me, a mere quiche, in the giant, burning world of the OVEN.
Warm like an oven, she held him close. He baked in her radiance, fried in her presence. Carbon monoxide choked him. The temperature rose in degrees until he was burnt, ashen, gray.
Ovens are places where some people go to die. It’s so strange that that’s my first thought. I think most people would think of baking, I mean, that only makes sense. Ovens. People make art in ovens. all kinds of it. Edible, beautiful, fragile art. That’s pretty cool. I wish I were a better chef. I love food. It’s pretty great.
the oven is an amazing place full of heat and helps cook amazing items which people can devour and love so terribly so that only words can express how much the taste of the treats makes the world feel so much happier.
hot steamy burning food dinner