Carla Timmons was feeling forlorn. She’d been out of it the whole day starting with bad sleep. This day was even made worse when she got fired from her gig as an art gallery tour guide. “We don’t want your energy being shown to our costumers. I’m going to have to let you go.” That is what her boss said to her today. “Awesome,” Carla had said back sarcastically. Even now she thinks about wanting to play back the short conversation to leave on a bit better of a note.

“You know what,” Carla spoke aloud in her quiet apartment. “I’m going to try to make this day a bit better.” Pulling out her laptop from her bag, Carla opened her favorite cookie recipe she had saved on the desktop. She had made them so many times she had it out just for a little reference, but she still read the intro. It was because it was hilarious.

Chocolate Chip Cookies:

Wassup campers! I’m Dean Make Bakes, and these cookies are out of your world!

Carla paused. “What the…” she whispered. She knew the hippie baker dude by the online name Dean Bakes for a long time. She used many of his goofy but delicious recipes all the time. His profile never had “Make” in the middle. Especially the unlikeliness that this multiple year old page had been edited. The end of the sentence was also different. Nobody says “out of your world”, it’s usually “this world”. She also remembered the same.

Skimming through the rest of the small intro she found the last sentence strange as well. “These cookies will make your dull life extra ordinary!” This sentence was completely altered. It usually said the cookies will make you whole, which she found funny, but this was different.

Looking past this, the ingredients were exactly as she last looked. Still untouched and perfect. Another change was right after the instructions. The sentence read, “If you need help, just start over if you mess up, it’s worth the time.” Not only did it make no grammatical sense she didn’t reThe last change was the promotion to Dean Bakes’ social media. It read, “track Dean via (323) 675 3298”. No trace of his social accounts, but a phone number chillingly near Carla’s Los Angeles area code.

Piecing together the changes to her favorite recipe, a message was readable. Make your life extra ordinary. If you need help. (323) 675 3298.

How did this happen? Carla thought frantically. And why? This was my worst day in a while, yet this message was found in my favorite recipe. I always made it to cheer up. Who ever was playing a sick prank on me, it wasn’t funny. But how would they know my day had been awful; she thought.

A little shocked and tired from this insane day, she dialed the mysterious number. She sighed while she waited for the other end. All she wanted were some good damn cookies.