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Literature
Chocolate Chaos
Random pastry movement: brownie in motion.
Literature
The Last Kind Man
For once I was glad my little sister was with me because I couldn't remember what Mom sent us to the swap meet for. I was watching the kasheeskis (spider-legged elephants if you ain't from around here) belching white clouds into the air. They get twenty feet tall this time of year. The alpha of the herd puffed a cloud of white smoke in our direction that almost made me lose my balance. Ran over a pothole so big that Mom’s instructions bounced outta my head and almost took Anne with them.
The Sunday swap meet was in full swing when we got there. Old Miss Fullerton was selling corn and squashes from her little wooden cart. She's
Literature
Candy at a Funeral
In the face of bitterness
I have mastered sweetness.
By the end of this day I will have calculated
exact measurements of cream
to wipe clean the face of gravestones.
I will have learned to soothe the aching
of windswept hearts,
to break open on my part
like a shell of chocolate
quivering open, full of cream.
I will have learned to love grief
as dearly as my own dream.
At the end of my childhood -my dream-
of owning a candy store:
a sweet shop, a bakery….
specializing in the art of the glazed.
The wedding cakes, the brick tarts,
memory of a birt
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12-31-2012
Comments84
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You write in an engaging, entertaining way that kept me spell-bound within the story from the first word to the last.
I particularly loved this line, "...thoughts of Veronica and the way the walkie-talkie took the warm milk from the caramel timbre in her voice but still kept the flavor."