Believe It Or Not I didn’t know what a sugar pastry was before. I learned about it from a friend of mine who had a dream about a sugar pastry, who learned about sugar pastries from a friend who had a dream about a sugar pastry, and I think it’s contagious. He told me it was contagious too, but I didn’t believe it at first.
But Then I Had a dream. It was about sugar pastries. The twists in the pastries were nicely made, and the pastries looked normal. Which is strange, because I don’t know what sugar pastries look like. The dream pastries looked normal though. I think there was cinnamon in them. They looked normal but then the twists started spiralling, and then I realised I was in an OCEAN of sugar pastries and I was drowning in it as it turned into a bunch of tiny chasms, and slowly the twists/chasms/spirals/cracks in the pastries would make it all look like dry dry land. Then it all turned to sugar, plain white sugar, and I drowned in it.
But Then I Grabbed My Parrot and my things so I could go to the bakery. After waking up, of course. Why did I do that? Well, I decided this: I want to conquer it. I want to conquer the drought-stricken ocean. I want to eat a sugar pastry.
Believe It or not! It’s not that hard to cycle to a bakery across the ocean. We live on two different continents, the baker and I. The only ones in the world. We’re the only people in the world, and there are only two continents in the world. And one has me, one has the baker. We are inseparable. He isn’t the only person in the world besides me but he may as well be. After all, he’ll be the one to make me the sugar pastry.
“Did You Grab Your Parrot And Your Things?” he asks when I fall face-down through the door. Only Two People Exist now because Sugar Pastry Maker And Eater are the only roles of the world. And the parrot’s songs of screeching are the payment. So are my things. My things are a thing of mystery and I can’t tell you the truth about them, but they keep the continents afloat. My things are the reason we are alive and that’s Why the baker must know that they’re there with me. I can wreak havoc upon the world if I will myself to do so. I love the baker and my friend and the other friends and the other bakers of this wide wide tiny fragile world, but I could let it all crumble like sugar melting in my mouth.
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“Believe It Or Not,” the baker says, “the parrot doesn’t hate me anymore.” That is correct. The parrot’s song is sweet today. There are no attempts to make the baker’s ears bleed and I’m glad, because that would mean the blood might get into the baked goods and that would violate a lot of non-existent health codes. And the parrot has lifted me by its claws, grabbing both of my shoulders. Which is a burden on me rather than the parrot because it’s tiny and I have to contort my shoulders horribly to make them fit in the parrot’s claws.
“Here you go,” the baker says, “Sugar pastries!”
“Oceans,” I say. “Dried up land that can eat you up whole.”
“Whatever you say.”
“I wonder how long the continents will stay afloat.”
“They will stay long enough for you to enjoy my pastries, my love.”
“I will conquer the dying continents from my sleep by eating the pastries. In my dreams, all the land turned to sugar. What if that happens in the real life? What if the contagious dream is a sign of horrible things to come?”
“Well, you grabbed your things, right?”
“Yes.”
“And you grabbed your parrot.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re responsible for the continents staying afloat.”
“Yes I AM But What If Things Go Horribly Wrong And Things TURN TO DUST BENEATH OUR FEET–”
“shh,” he says, “no need to worry for now. I believe in you, and things will be alright. And you have your parrot to keep you company through thick and thin. and me to make you pastries when you’re dejected. and in turn you keep the continents afloat, and everyone lets you because we will believe in you. even if you weren’t keeping the continents afloat I’d still believe in you, because you are you.”
“okay. thank you. I believe in you too.”
“enjoy the pastry now”
thanks I will