Gary Gateau was a uranium miner.
Every morning he would don lead-fiber coveralls and facemask and descend into the bowels of the Athabasca Pit. Every evening he would shamble home exhausted, encrusted with triuranium octoxide.
Caked with yellowcake.
Gary hated the yellowcake. It got in his nostrils, his ears, his eyes. He knew that eventually it would kill him. But he had to make a living. Ironic, that, he thought.
Today, however, was his birthday. He rushed to his shack, eager to celebrate.
His face fell when he saw that his wife had baked a cake.
A fucking yellow cake.
[You can listen to the podcasted version here, part of Weekly Challenge #100 at the 100 Word Stories Podcast.]
Every morning he would don lead-fiber coveralls and facemask and descend into the bowels of the Athabasca Pit. Every evening he would shamble home exhausted, encrusted with triuranium octoxide.
Caked with yellowcake.
Gary hated the yellowcake. It got in his nostrils, his ears, his eyes. He knew that eventually it would kill him. But he had to make a living. Ironic, that, he thought.
Today, however, was his birthday. He rushed to his shack, eager to celebrate.
His face fell when he saw that his wife had baked a cake.
A fucking yellow cake.
[You can listen to the podcasted version here, part of Weekly Challenge #100 at the 100 Word Stories Podcast.]
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