crumbs

"Lemon Pistachio, Pumpkin Bliss, Chocolate Razzle." My eyes greedily glazed over the colorful decorated sweets, all of which hold a kind of promise to them. "This place has everything!"

"I love cupcakes," agreed my sister. She casually looked over the labels and pointed at a cupcake with pink frosting. "This one's my favorite. Do you want anything?"

Her voice seemed a mile away. The cupcake was beautiful, sitting there so innocently behind the clear glass. It definitely was Love At First Bite for me.

An elbow poked into my side. "Uh, hello? Do you want anything?"

I shook my head, my mouth salivating at the thought of the soft cake inside my mouth. "I shouldn't," I heard myself saying. "I should be watching my weight."

My sister laughed and ordered one Pretty in Pink cupcake. "Just take half," she said, handing it to me as she paid the lady at the register. "I bet you'll like this one. I know it looks delicious, but wait till you eat -" Her mouth dropped open as she looked at my empty hand. "Where did it go?"

It was too late. The crumbs on my face gave me away.

innuendo

nintendo


you have to turn it on to play with it.

flamingo

When he looked at her, he thought she was beautiful. Beautiful hair, bright eyes, a great smile - she had it all. She even had nice legs, not that he was looking. He just happened to see them when he was admiring how she sat with that S-curve posture that girls always have.

He didn't talk to her very often, but they could be friends. She laughs at his jokes and doesn't turn away, so that's a good sign, right?

He liked to think that his little brother thought the same. Everyone could look at her and feel the same way, it's just that everyone expresses it differently.

At least that's what he tried to tell her when his brother toddled up to her and told her she looked like a flamingo.

spicy

If you want to put your mouth on fire,
Why not try something spicy?
Go on,
Throw in a red pepper and let it sit there.
The taste touches the tongue first,
And then it makes your nose run
And it makes your body warm
And you start to sweat
And pant
And then you're crying and your face is scrunched up in pain
And soon before you know it, you are dying of thirst.




When I think of spicy foods,
I think about all of this and ask myself,
Do I want to burn my tongue?
No, I do not.


But if I had to commit suicide,
It would be by eating ten peppers.

I wish I could put an evil face on this.

a crunchy target

A voice sounded over the radio. "What's the target?"


I held down a button as I said, "Twelve o'clock. In red." I narrowed my eyes in on the innocent victim and felt a trickle of uncertainty. What if it doesn't go to plan? What if she finds out?


"Got it. Is it a go?"


I took a deep breath. There's only one shot I'll get today, and I'm going to take it. "Yes," I heard myself say. "In three... two... one... Now!"


A tennis ball shot out of nowhere, knocking the target to the ground near where I hid. I looked around and ran out to take what was - is - mine.


"Hey!" a sharp voice ran out. "What are you doing?"


"Abort, abort!" I saw Daniel toss his walkie talkie before he ran off upstairs. Knowing I couldn't run for it, I sighed and faced my judgment.


"I'm hungry?" I offered as explanation. My mom just glared at me as she tore the cookie bag out of my hands.


"You're going to ruin your appetite for dinner! Go upstairs and wash up." She marched me to the bottom of the stairs and waited for me to go all the way up. "Wash your face," she reminded before turning away.


I grumbled as I watched her head dip down and heard her chewing something crunchy.

tin foil

It is not exciting to be a dog, especially a Maltese that stays at home all day without anyone else there keeping her company. She just sits there all day, watching TV until it gets old. She's only interested in the cop shows because they're interesting and have German Shepherds sometimes.


When the cartoons start playing, she knows it's time to turn off the TV. By that time, the sun's rays should be streaming through the window in the living room and creating a square of heat on the floor. That's probably the best time of the day for her, when she gets to lay out on the carpet and bathe in the warmth. She could close her eyes and pretend the sun was a blanket wrapped around her.


But today, it was raining and the sun wasn't coming out. The Maltese looked outside through the water drops on the window pane and saw something shiny walking down the sidewalk. What was it? It looked bright and silvery, not like anything she has ever seen before. It was being pushed along by the tall one with long hair, the one her owner called Babe. The Maltese barked and ran to the door just as it opened.


"It was raining and I didn't have an umbrella! I didn't want to get wet," the statue said.


The tall one was shaking her head, but she looked as if she were trying not to smile. She started peeling the silver wrap to reveal the little boy who the Maltese shared her room with. "Still! You didn't have to use all my tin foil."


"Mrs. Peterson thought it was funny," the boy said sulkily.


The two humans went to the kitchen, leaving the Maltese by herself again. She sniffed at the silver stuff left on the floor and backed away. It does not smell like a good snack. She ran to the kitchen to see if there was something better for her there.

waffles

"Blueberry waffles are so delicious." I eagerly took another bite and poured more syrup. There was nothing like a stack of waffles to greet you in the morning.


"You know what's even better? Blueberry pancakes." He cut into a stack of three pancakes while looking at my waffles. "Your breakfast looks too decorative. Food is to eat, not to make into art."


I shrugged. That's his opinion, even though it's wrong. "Yeah well, your pancakes look like you sat on them. They're so flat and squished." I smiled at him all the while thinking about eating something that someone sat on. Ew, gross.


He laughed, but it didn't seem very genuine. "They're not squished! Besides, your waffles look like someone punched squares all over them, and that's weird."


I put down my fork. "That's the design, stupid. Waffles look like that!" I glared at him. "Your pancakes look like sandpaper cut out in shapes of circles!"


He pushed back from the table angrily and stood up, his nose flaring. "You liar! You just like squares, you square!"


I stood up too, breathing heavily. "At least I'm not trying to eat a shape that I'm going to turn into!"


He sputtered, pointing at me. Then he calmed down and folded his arms, looking down at me with anger in his eyes. "You know what I really think?" He leaned closer and chuckled darkly. "I think waffles suck. They taste bad."


I gasped and pushed him away. "You take that back!"


"Make me!"


My eyes narrowed. Oh, I will.