Monochrome Dream Eating Baku Novels & Stories

Maybe it comes with the title. I sat on my bed. I did not take off my shoes. I only meant to close my eyes for a second. The darkness took me fast. I did not dream of food. I dreamed of a monk in a stone monastery. He was faceless. He stood over a boiling cauldron. He stirred it with perfect motion. He turned to me and held out a ladle. The liquid inside was black as ink. I reached for it. But the monk’s hand turned into the withered hand from the kitchen.

Jake was lounging on the sofa, ladle in hand. He scooped up a generous portion—tender meat, soft vegetables, rich broth—and took a slow, satisfied bite. "Perfect." Bella stood frozen in the doorway, utterly dumbstruck. ... Lamb... stew? Fresh bread? Ice-cold beer? Was she dreaming? Had the cold given her hallucinations? This was the apocalypse—people were gnawing on moldy bread out there, and this guy was eating a home-cooked stew in his RV?!

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Arjuna’s grey eyes filled with a terrifying mix of shock, hunger, and a dark, possessive fire. "Found them!" Bumi emerged, his small face set in a serious scowl. He was dressed in a crisp navy blazer for his international preschool, looking every bit like a miniature version of a CEO about to take over a boardroom. Langit followed behind, clutching a sketchbook. "Bunda, can we have Soto Ayam for dinner? The one with the extra crackers?" Dira forced a smile, kneeling to straighten Langit’s collar. "If you both promise to be on your best behavior today. That means no hacking the school’s main server, Bumi. And no drawing on the principal’s car, Langit."

Some dogs barked loudly at us as we past, it made me smile. I pictured what those families in those houses we're doing. Maybe all sitting at a small dining room table in soft candle light, excitedly telling each other stories of their day while eating warm home cooked meals their mother had prepared. They'd excitedly smile to one another, happy to just be in everyone's presence. I realized how deeply I wanted that. A family. The homes suddenly disappeared, nothing but foliage on either side. But then we approached a large building. It was the tallest thing I had ever seen. It seemed to stretch into the sky! It was made of steel and glass, the sight of it was intimidating.

she said while walking up behind her. "Markkhstan Dari," said Ms. Anastasia. "Oh wow, that is my favorite place," Emily exclaimed. "Please bring red moon cakes on your way back. Lowell loves the red mooncakes there." "Okay, I will bring them, but make sure you close the door from inside," she instructed Emily with a smile. [Flashback]

She then points at the traditional Japanese set meal in front of me and says, “I’ve got you some teishoku breakfast. Quickly eat, we are setting off to the airport in an hour.” I nod, “Okay.” and I pick up the chopsticks and start to tuck into the breakfast. For ten minutes, we both ate silently. We did not talk to each other, and we did not look into each other’s eyes. Whereas suddenly, Jamie speaks, “I had a weird dream. A wet one.” Her abrupt words cause me to choke myself with some rice, I pat my chest rapidly before I look at her and ask, “W-what?” Finding me being surprised, Jamie repeats, whispering, “I said, I had a wet dream.”

As they walked, Abeni fought to keep her emotions in check, the fear and desperation threatening to overwhelm her. Finally, they arrived at a small park, its trees bare and skeletal against the night sky. The soft glow of moonlight illuminated the snow-covered ground, casting everything in an ethereal glow. Abeni turned to face Dmitry, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. She searched his face, hoping to see some sign of understanding or compassion, but his expression remained guarded.

Alecia didn’t answer, but her shoulders dropped a little, and she took a real breath. Lunch was simple and quiet. A small soba stand served cold noodles on ice, dipped into chilled broth with a refreshing flavor. They ate without talking, listening instead to bamboo slats shifting in the wind. Afterward, they bought iced matcha from a vendor at the corner. The man never looked up, just slid two bamboo cups across the tray. The drink was thick, bright green, bitter and earthy. Alecia drank it slowly, letting the stillness settle in her chest.

He was in the wave of small armchairs landing at my feet. He blinked up at me. I felt like I had a full body flush as his eyes - like melted chocolate in color - slowly looked over my body with desire. I’ve been checked out plenty, but this felt different. I bent closer, trying to get a closer look at him. How is he here? Is this not really Bisnonna’s cottage? Did I get pulled into his dream world while awake?

--- Yuki’s POV The food arrived like a dream laid out in porcelain. A plate as white as snow, so large it could hardly sit on the table, with tiny delicate swirls of sauce, gold dust sparkle, and a creative pile of what appeared to be some immaculately seared duck breast smothered in cherry reduction, sitting atop a teeny-tiny truffle-infused potato puree bed. There were these teeny-tiny purple edible flowers and crunchy fried shallots sprinkled like art. It was so lovely I'd have liked to have framed it rather than swallowed it.