Lilianna lived in a quaint, sunlit apartment on the 4th floor of a charming old building nestled within the bustling heart of a large metropolis. From her window, she had a front-row seat to the vibrant theater of city life: people scurrying to work in tailored suits, parents pushing strollers to the nearby market, and street vendors shouting over the morning din. Her cozy living space was a delightful blend of vintage charm and quirky décor. Her walls adorned with mismatched framed prints of abstract art, a collection of colorful potted plants — some basking in the sunlight, while others sagged yellow and weary from excess water and shade. Lilianna had shelves lined with whimsical trinkets from her travels abroad alongside a vibrant and varied collection of books covering topics from psychology and personal growth to social commentary and biographies.
A very small galley kitchen contained other treasures from Lilianna’s domestic and international travels. Ceramic and stainless-steel cookware hung from long hooks draping down from a metal grid attached to the ceiling. Colorful tea pots of many sizes and shapes gleamed cheerfully atop the built-in wood storage cabinets, which framed a modest metal sink straddling two narrow formica countertops. An old gas range with rose gold plastic knobs and a red retro mini refrigerator completed the other side of her cramp kitchen. Lilianna could prep, cook, and clean within arm’s reach with just enough space for another occupant. Completing her kitchen ensemble sat a prized possession: an antique toaster oven. A relic from the 1950s with gleaming chrome accents and a green Bakelite resin dial that clicked enthusiastically as she set the temperature. The old appliance did have a tendency to toast unevenly, but Lilianna adored its character.
Every morning, Lilianna would prepare her breakfast with a sense of ritual. One egg over easy, a small cup of orange juice, and two slices of rustic sourdough bread toasted until the edges reached a crispy dark brown color. She meticulously prepared everything and when it was all plated, she often ate her breakfast standing before an east facing window. Light warmed her face and cast a golden glow over the morning meal she had lovingly prepared.
One particular day, as Lilianna savored her first fork full of egg, she noticed a pattern gracing the surface of her two pieces of toast. One slice seemed to display a shape that resembled a crown, while the second piece displayed a curious design of dots. Puzzled, she shrugged it off as a figment of her imagination and finished her meal. She soaked her dishes in the sink, brushed her teeth, and Lilianna was off to work.
Like the eclectic decor of her apartment, Lilianna’s life was a tapestry of independence and self-discovery. As she navigated the bustling streets on foot and hopped onto the local tram, she treasured the freedom of her life in the city. Each day felt like a new adventure, filled with the thrill of spontaneity and a belief in good things to come.
At the end of her workday, the skies darkened ominously, and a sudden downpour erupted as Lilianna walked home. As she hurried along the sidewalk, she spotted a gentleman across the street, dry beneath a large, bright umbrella. In a moment of clarity, she realized the umbrella looked strikingly similar to the crown she had seen on her toast that morning—only upside down. A wave of realization washed over her. Was that a crown shape on her morning toast, or had she mistaken it for an upside-down umbrella? The dot pattern on the other piece of toast suddenly had some relevance as she observed the rain cascading from the sky. Lilianna’s thoughts quickly turned to finding an open storefront to duck into until the downpour lightened up.
She found herself in a Dominican bodega known for their chicharrónes and a variety of plantain dishes. The delicious aroma from the stainless-steel food warmers took over her senses and directed her attention to a cute guy from work who was loading up a takeout container with rice and beans to go. Lilianna thought she caught a momentary glance. She instantly felt timid, and her instincts drove her to the narrow dairy section to review the store’s inventory of milk and eggs.
Lilianna awoke the next day to sounds of pooled water being swept back and forth on the streets below in the wake of early traffic. She had a moment of reflection and over-thought her embarrassment for retreating from her co-worker’s glance in the bodega.
There would be no sun to warm her face or golden glow on her breakfast this morning. A drizzle of rain continued to fall outside her window. With a low chime, toast was ready, and Lilianna momentarily paused before her beloved appliance to enjoy the heat from the metal coils of her toaster oven. As she looked down upon her daily bread, Lilianna searched for the reappearance of the crown shape once again but began to interpret another distinctive shape. The contrast of light and dark browns on the surface offered up two almond shapes on one slice of bread and diagonal lines leading to a rectangular form on the other slice. Lilianna hoped this was a sign of a renewed sun cutting through clouds with rays of warmth to come.
Over the next few days, Lilianna began to take notice of these regular and peculiar patterns in her breakfast toast. It was a bit of a mystery whether these were meaningful shapes and patterns forming on the surface of her toasted rustic sourdough bread or was she cobbling together these ideas in her head based on remote similarities, like clouds momentarily resembling animal shapes in the sky above as the white puffs churn with winds in the troposphere.
Each morning brought new shapes and patterns, teasing her with their meanings. One day, the toast revealed a form through subtle shading that appeared to be a bicycle on one slice and then zigzag patterns on the adjacent slice. Later that day, she witnessed a man struggling to ride an electric bike, wobbling precariously as he nearly collided with a lamppost. Another day, the first slice showed a ball with a curved line running through it and the second slice contained a triangle with the bottom side rounded. She found herself at a baseball game that evening. A man seated next to her caught a home run ball. When he held up his prize, Lilianna realized the stitching on the ball and the view from her seat matched the premonition provided by her morning slices of toast.
Over the course of weeks, Lilianna’s curiosity deepened. The messages were often highly cryptic, and the things forecasted were mostly mundane. Shapes appearing to be flower petals were sketched on her toast and a bouquet arrived on her desk at work. The number five was loosely outlined on her bread, and she later found a five-dollar bill on the backseat of her taxi ride downtown. Small occurrences that would come about sometime later in the day were predicted by the signs or hints sketched out on the toasted surface of non-GMO, gluten free bread. A glimpse into the future and a good source of fiber. But was the magic a result of the bread or the small antique oven?
While nothing of great significance was foretold, it was uncanny how the shaded silhouettes, lines, and dots fixed on the surface of her toast were fulfilled by some observation or event in the hours to come. The accuracy made her wonder if there was something deeper to be discovered in all of this. Each morning felt like a playful game with fate, and each evening she went to bed with excited anticipation for what her toast would reveal the next day.
It had been a month since the first toasted premonition took place. Moving through March and now into February. It was in fact February 14th — Valentine’s Day had arrived. Lilianna anticipated iconic shapes of hearts and floral patterns to appear on her daily toast. To her surprise two almond shapes materialized from the surface of the first slice she removed from her toaster oven, and the second slice revealed the most intricate pattern of contours, tear drop motifs, and broad flowing lines that resembled paisley. No hearts and no flowers.
At work, Lilianna composed a communication response that would require just the right amount of diplomacy and forceful demand to elicit a call to action from an unresponsive client. She was heads down with her nose to the keyboard when a co-worker from the finance department tapped her desk and asked if she was Lilianna Bianchi.
Lilianna’s face emerged from her laptop computer and before she looked to acknowledge the person before her, her eyes locked onto a purple paisley tie. The young man whose face sat atop the paisley tie was Max. Lilianna eventually moved her eyes up to meet those of Max. And now the morning toast had once again forecast a moment in her day. Almond-shaped with slightly upswept outer corners would best describe the beautiful walnut-colored eyes she was now studying. Max understood that he was being examined and he was flattered by Lilianna’s silent attention to his tie and his eyes. Suddenly, he broke out in laughter and made the connection. “I met you in the Estevez Deli, it was raining, and you ran in from the street.” Lilianna was confused, “the Bodega?” Max smiled, “Yes, I saw you and I recognized you from the office. I was about to say hello, and you disappeared into the back of the store.”
Max explained that he was hand delivering a reimbursement check for travel expenses. Lilianna wanted to return to editing her client letter, but she was also still in a state of shock. What did it all mean? Could she share what was foretold in her morning toast to this co-worker who she only knew through a random moment as a result of the rain. Max continued to engage her with light conversation and randomly asked, “what do they call the pattern on your sweater.” Lilianna looked down as if to confirm that she was actually wearing a sweater. It was a pink wool blend with blue and gold stitching. Lilianna looked up once again to meet Max’s eyes with a warm smile, “It’s argyle. My mother sent this to me for my birthday last year.”
Max was somehow fixated on Lilianna’s sweater, his gaze intent on studying the intricate, overlapping diamond shapes that adorned it. As stunned and intrigued as Lilianna was by the connection of her morning toast and the man that now stood beside her work desk, she did not expect his forward invitation to join him for lunch. Before she could fully process the kind request, Lilianna was more intrigued with the possibility of uncovering the deeper meaning to her toast situation. After an awkward pause and one more glance at Max’s purple paisley tie, “Yes, I’m free at noon.”
During lunch, as they shared stories and some polite laughter, Max leaned in, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “You know,” he began, “for the past week, I’ve been getting some unusual latte art at my favorite coffee shop.”
“Latte art?” Lilianna raised an eyebrow with curiosity.
“Yeah! Each day, the barista at a café below my co-op has crafted a different iconic shape on my latte. This has been going on for weeks. It’s become a little game for me,” he said, his enthusiasm contagious. “Just this morning, the barista created a diamond shape with diagonal lines crossing through it. It was a bit unusual. Usually it’s flowers, concentric circles, or a heart shape. I mean it’s Valentine’s Day! I expect they would put hearts on everyone’s lattes. And then here I am, at your desk. You look up and I see your sweater. I’m mesmerized. How is this possible? The latte art, it’s the design on your sweater! Is the latte leading me to you?”
Lilianna’s heart skipped a beat as she glanced down at her outfit. The symbols from her toast and his latte art seemed to synchronize, leading them to this moment. She was silent and processing her own crazy routine with her toast and the mystery of how the shapes would align with something later in the day of her life. It was taking place each day, but Lilianna would be too embarrassed to share her experience, which ironically matched Max’s experience. One had its origins in bread and the other in milk.
Max interrupted her moment of self-reflection, “I know that sounds kind of foolish to make some kind of connection with my morning latte.” And as Max was fumbling for words to go along with his embarrassment. Lilianna cut him off, “Do you think they’re connected?”
Max was a bit confused, “My latte art and you?”
“No, what I mean to say is that I’m having a similar experience, but it’s with my toast. My morning toast.” Lilianna realized that others in the restaurant might have heard what she just said. Up until now, she considered the whole toast thing to be truly nuts. She was rolling with it in a private capacity. So, it was her crazy that no one should know about. But now, this guy she just met was willing to expose his crazy. She leaned forward and lowered her voice to a whisper, “My toast. It’s been communicating with me for as many weeks as you’ve been receiving messages through your lattes.”
Max paused, leaned back in his chair, and then slowly grinned. His mouth opened as if to say something and then there was an eruption of laughter. Lilianna joined in chorus and burst out laughing as well. Still giggling, Max steadied himself with his hand to his forehead, “Maybe they’re steppingstones. These messages we’re getting in the food we’re consuming. Like fate is giving us little nudges in the right direction.”
Lilianna couldn’t help but continue to laugh at the delightful absurdity of it all. The toast, the latte art, and their serendipitous meeting felt like the universe conspiring in the quirkiest way to bring them together.
As their lunch continued, Lilianna realized that her morning ritual had transformed from mere breakfast into a source of hope and connection. She embraced the unpredictability of life and the magic of the mundane, eager to see where this newfound relationship would lead.
With a lifted spirit and a warm feeling of gratification, she toasted another piece of bread the following morning, excited for whatever peculiar premonition awaited her next, knowing that sometimes, the most ordinary moments could lead to the extraordinary.
