Fridge of Terror

It was a cold, damp, dreary morning when the monster came to life. For weeks, it had lay still and lifeless…always the same, unchanged, colorless substance. At first, it was simply a mixture of basic ingredients, but that morning, it had become a living entity.

When I awoke that morning I knew something peculiar was afoot. Stumbling to the kitchen to quell the monster with in, I began rummaging through the cupboards. Giving up I moved to search the fridge. A strange smell permeated my senses. A quick examination of the milk showed that it was out of date, but not far enough to create that stench. Moving aside a bottle of juice, I saw it, the hideous wretch of my creation.

The plastic bag over the top was stretched to the limit, nearing the bursting point. Quickly I grabbed the jar, placing it in the sink. Gently, I shake the jar to mix the substance as I had many time before. Removing the ring and plastic bag to reduce the pressure, I jump back in terror.

The substance, which only days before had been a placid, listless liquid, now writhed with life. It bubbled and roamed, crawling towards the mouth of the jar in hopes of escape. It appeared to me, as if the harmless white substance was teaming with millions of tiny life forms that, like hunted animals, were fleeing from their would be captor.

Shaking myself from my stupor, I began a frantic search for a new container in which to imprison the furious substance. After several stress filled moments, of trying not to wake my roommate, I triumphantly pull a large plastic bowl and lid from the forgotten regions of a reclusive cupboard.

Cautiously, I approached the sink, in hopes of surprising my prey. It was over in seconds, but to both parties involved it felt like an eternity we fought. I for capture, my creation for freedom. Finally, it was over. Drawing myself up straight, I wiped a splatter of the sticky substance from my face. It was then that my nose registered the tangy sour smell of the substance.

It had finally become what it was meant to be, but was it worth it? How many more attempts for freedom would my creation make? How many battles can I take before I give up and set the creature free?

Quickly I cleaned out the sink, wiped down the counters, destroying all evidence of the battle. Turning back to the container, I glowered at the substance sitting innocent and quiet in the bowl. I sighed carefully placing the substance back in the fridge.

Turning off the light I returned to my room to recover. I have won for now, but each time I open the fridge I do so in fear. For now, it sleeps, but one never knows when the Sourdough Monster will awaken and reign in terror.

10/25/05