An idea I had for a writing challenge on HolyWorlds. Write about a really menial task that you do in everyday life that could enhance your writing. Here is mine:
I was going to have fried eggs on toast for lunch. Opening the cupboard under the stove, I scrounged around inside it till I located the handle of the frying pan, carefully extracting it without causing an avalanche. I placed it on the hotplate, turned on the heat, and looked up to switch the overhead stove light on. It flickered and died. I gritted my teeth in frustration.
This horrible stove light! It irritated me to no end. It was probably a faulty connection which made it so fickle, but it seemed to die on cue just to infuriate me. I made a fist, and bashed it, raising only a spark before it conked out again. I scowled, and moved my position to the side of the exhaust and bashed it again. This time it came back on. Somewhat satisfied, I went about frying my eggs.
As I moved to the fridge, I bumped the oven adjacent to the stove. The light promptly disappeared again. It was so touchy that if anything remotely nearby moved, it would go out. I ignored it, and I took the eggs out of the fridge. Turning back to the stove, it came back on.
"Hah! See? I can do it by myself." It gloated.
I rolled my eyes, and concentrated on my eggs beginning to brown in the pan, sizzling all the while. As I waited, I softly began to lean my head on the stove exhaust, gingerly so as not to disturb the light. With a flutter of realization, it quickly went out like a candle in the wind.
It laughed at me. "You can't fool me! I know you touched me! Haha!"
Angrily I pounded on it at all angles, even slamming a few cupboards to no avail. It stubbornly stayed out. I huffed, fed up. By this time, my eggs were done and I removed the pan, turning off the heat. With a smirk, I reached up to turn off the light.
I flared for a brief moment, "Alright! I'll--"
But it was too late: I had turned it off.
"I win." I said smugly.