It had rained overnight. The wooden porch railing felt clammy and damp as I clambered down this morning on my way to work. I usually go out my back door and through the alleys to get to the CTA bus stop. It’s shorter than going the front way, and my ankles hurt with all this wet weather.
Now, Chicago is famed for its alleys, because it allows for people to throw their garbage away incognito instead of just piling it up on the sidewalks like some so-called world class cities, (cough)newyork(cough). So the alleys have rows of dumpsters lining them.
Sitting on top of one of these dumpster was a little yellow lump. As I approached I could see it was something that was crumbling and melting, and alive with swarming black flies. I looked at it, and saw yellow frosting. There were three layers of pockmarked pastry with blobs of cheese oozing out. I couldn’t tell if the flies in the frosting were so still because they were in heaven with of the sugar they were feasting on, or in heaven because they were dead.
Anyway, it occurred to me at that moment that someone HAD LEFT THE CAKE OUT IN THE RAIN!!!
In nearly sixty years, I had never thought that was an actual thing.
I wonder if anyone kept the recipe?
??
