Cafe Days and Cake Melodrama

I opened my shades, the morning fall sunlight spilling into my room as I tossed on my favorite pair of slippers. I sat and drank my coffee, windows now fully opened, my cats more than happily watching cars come by. Today I had some errands to run, cake based errands to be exact. I haven´t baked in a hot minute, but of course the day I decided to, I was completely out of everything to make a reasonable baked good. I quickly scrawled down a list as I noticed the shimmering, all too familiar scarlet car pull into my driveway. I packed up my little backpack and trekked out to the grand opening of a new cafe nearby. Now, this is at a point in my city where it´s nothing but hills and roads. Absolutely no parking either. We found a spot by a small tree, walked up the hill, and walked inside. After having my lunch, it was time to set out for my errands. I retrieved what I needed and set out to bake. I pulled out the recipe, in my grandmother´s delicate handwriting, and followed it to a T. However, after about 20 minutes of my ancient oven attempting to perform the world's loudest, chocolate flavored alchemy, I smelled smoke. I darted over to my oven, and a puff of smoke spilled out, practically obscuring any view of the cakes. After fanning it and wiping off oozing cake batter, the cakes sat there, perfectly unharmed. It almost looked like the three men thrown into the fiery furnace. After cleaning up, and opening up every one of my windows, I let the cakes do their thing, and set them on the counter, where they lie in wait. A car drives by, crickets chirp, I let out a shiver and a happy smile, because sometimes we can come out unscathed.