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Momma made the best cupcakes in the world - melt-in-your-mouth, light, fluffy clouds of buttery-sweet deliciousness. Each birthday, as far back as I can remember, she would hand me an elegantly wrapped box at the breakfast table, tied off with a bow.

Moments later, with a little tug, the red satin loops would slip gently to the table. My fingers would slide through crisp paper, releasing the opulent scent of vanilla and tangy cream cheese frosting. Momma would belt out Happy Birthday. I'd airdrum. We'd giggle til we couldn't breathe. Between sips of hot tea, we'd devour every last red crumb. It was our thing.

I squinted at the blurry date circled on my calendar. One more sleep. Momma was gone, leaving me to pick up the pieces. Birthdays would never be the same. I hugged my pillow tightly - closed my eyes.

I woke with a start, the birthday song playing in my head. Mama's perfume percolated my senses and the taste of red velvet lingered incomprehensibly on my lips. I brushed at imaginary crumbs as the memory faded quickly into the receding night on the tail of a dream.

I smiled and whispered, "Happy birthday to me."

Edit 1: Zoho

Momma made the best cupcakes in the world - melt-in-your-mouth, light, fluffy clouds of buttery-sweet deliciousness. Each birthday, as far back as I can remember, she would hand me an elegantly wrapped box at the breakfast table, tied off with a bow.

Moments later, with a little tug, the red satin loops would slip gently to the table. My fingers would slide through crisp paper, releasing the opulent scent of vanilla and tangy cream cheese frosting. Momma would belt out Happy Birthday, I'd air drum. We would giggle until we could not breathe. Between sips of hot tea, we would devour every last red crumb. It was our thing.
I squinted at the blurry date circled on my calendar; one more sleep. Momma was gone, leaving me to pick up the pieces. Birthdays would never be the same. I hugged my pillow and closed my eyes.

I woke with a start, the birthday song playing in my head. Mama's perfume percolated my senses. The taste of red velvet lingered incomprehensibly on my lips. I brushed at imaginary crumbs as the tail-end of a dream faded quickly into the receding night.

I smiled and whispered, "Happy birthday to me."

Header image Red Velvet Cupcakes by Fudio