Gluttony - I may have posted this before?
He licks his berry-stained fingers, sucking sticky sugar and who knows what else from beneath the nails.
“You know that’s filthy?” Clara’s eyes search his face. He’s all angles. With how easily he devours food you’d expect curves and rolling skin.
Heath leans back in his chair. Appraising. Giving her a once over. “Perhaps,” he pauses, slipping his finger back into the sweet filling pouring out from the crumb in front of him. He leans into her and feels her breath catch as he wipes the sticky mess across her mouth. Their faces almost touch, and she’s still not breathing. “Tastes good though,” he exhales as his tongue pushes its way into her mouth.
And he’s right.
It’s like eating light. It’s like drowning in oxygen. And she cannot stop. It is a hunger she could never describe. And she cannot stop. Her insides are bursting, but she cannot stop. The process of eating this cake has become her one and only need. And it never ends. And Clara must eat it all before he gets the chance to take anymore from her. She feels sick. She wants to stop. She needs to stop. She is suffocating. Food filling her so fast that her stomach cannot contain it. Red dripping from her mouth.
Heath holds her face down in the viscid expanse of sweet debris. “It’s alright, love. Keep going until you can’t. Keep going until your heart stops…”
And Clara weeps as the syrup fills her up. The sugar rushing through her veins, crashing into her heart. And her body cannot keep up. But still she wants more. And just when she thinks she will not fill until it is too late, he pulls her neck back. Her throat is exposed and her mouth is begging her to dig back in. “My turn,” he whispers and sucks every last bit of her out. And he keeps going until she can’t. He keeps going until her heart stops. Sticky morsels clinging to his throat. He keeps going because he can’t stop.
Have your cake or eat it??
It's a piece of cake; by that I mean to say it was easy as pie.
Being decisive has always been one of my strengths; like recognizing strengths in people, and my skill for making lists, so why should thus be any different.
It came down to really needing to know myself and what I would do in a given situation. Just like when they say you gotta be true to your heart!
So when that happened at my wedding, we'll, at the reception, my choices were obvious.
Do I have my cake?
I mean; its my family, they are my cake if any cake is mine, shiit.
So yeah I had to think 'Do I have my cake or eat it?'.
Obviously that cakes my family so I knew I had to not eat them. I wanted to keep it like that old saying;
A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush? Something like that. Well I knew I'd have them if I don't eat them.
I thought of it like a special diet. A cake free diet.
Then I looked right into my heart to be sure and I remembered something.
You can't spell 'diet' without 'die' first; and honey, im a survivor!
.
Sweet Hallucinations
"Not now. Not now," I beg. I feel my expression freeze in a feigned enthusiastic smile. I quickly glance behind Paul again. She's there, wearing a bridesmaid dress. It looks perfect on her- red in perfect contrast to her dark hair, her dark lips, her red cheeks. Why did she have to show up today? She was been away for weeks. She's got that sly grin which tells me she knows something. What is it? Whatever she knows, I can't let it get to me and I have to save face in front of everyone. I smile but joy is quickly escaping me. I'm losing my grip on reality. My face feels heavy and warm like I'm melting. Plop. I feel something heavy land on my head. Plop plop. Natalie giggles and points to Paul's ear. Coated in delicate white frosting, his cartilage collapses under the weight and falls onto his shoulder. His earlobe threatens to fall off but is held on by a few crumbs. Cake. Cake. Cake. Why the cake of all things, Natalie? Why?
Paul smiles endearingly, unaware of the rainbow sprinkles hanging errantly off his eyelashes. As I lean in to kiss him, my brain is filled with a breath of warm almond wedding cake. I close my eyes and hold my breath to seal our wedding vows and to push for an end to this hallucination. Paul's sweet sticky frosting lips give way to a warm supple crumb cake. I sigh, feeling love in the moment I've been waiting for- married at last, but panic sets in as I start to inhale and my nose is filled with sprinkles and that displaced cake icing.
Sensing my panic, Paul gives my hands an encouraging squeeze. My hands disintegrate, my fingers turn to mush in his grasp, and my wedding ring falls to the floor with an audible "Plop. Ting!" I bend down, searching for the ring, but only feeling the sponge texture of my flesh.
Paul meets me on the floor, "Are you okay? What are you doing?" "Natalie," I whisper, "It's stupid. I'm sorry. She turned everything into cake. I dropped the ring. I'm sorry."
Giggles echo in the venue. I look out to the crowd in time to see Paul's dad being scolded. Natalie is behind him digging into a healthy slice of his face.
Paul wraps me in a soft and mushy hug, displaces my frosting hair by kissing my head and pulls me down the aisle. There are no cheers as we walk by. Makes sense because cake can't talk.
The Price For Unlimited Treats
Sapid skipped down the peppermint lined streets of Cakeland, picking peanut butter chocolate flowers out of the ground and enjoying his existence. This town owned by the Cakervilles was almost perfect, as long as one thing didn't happen.
"Number 56198....if your number is 56198, you have been chosen as the ultimate gift." An intercom buzzed throughout the town. "Please report to the reception hall."
Sapid checked the number tattooed on the back of his hand and his heart sank. After being sentenced to living in Cakeland for his murderous past twenty years ago, his evil deeds were finally catching up to him. He had chosen to stay in the Cakervilles' closed off town instead of serving a standard life sentence, where he was happy to eat the never ending supply of deserts the town was made up of, thinking the off chance that he would get selected was worth the risk for unlimited sweets. Realizing how wrong he was, his heart beat rapidly as he approached the reception hall, knowing that even if he tried to escape his fate, the tattoo on his hand was rigged to slowly melt his body into frosting.
He walked into the reception hall and laid down on the giant tray like he was commanded. Mr. & Mrs. Cakerville, along with their teenage son Calan approached the tray, drooling over Sapid as he looked at them helplessly. Each Cakerville was made completely out of cake, and since they didn't eat their own kind, one of the billions of convicted humans living in Cakeland was chosen for each of their special occasions. He braced himself as Mr. Cakerville began impaling his chest with multiple wax javelin candles. His screams of agony did not bother the cake family - they actually laughed gleefully at his torment. Each candle was then lit aflame, making him he feel like he was being burned alive. After a hearty chorus of "Happy Birthday," Calan blew out the candles, which Mr. Cakerville promptly tore out of Sapid's flesh. Barely over the pain of having hot wax javelins ripped out of his body, he braced for the part that would be the worst of all.
"Time to cut the cake now. Would you like a foot piece this year as well Calan?"