I wasn’t always this way. I once swam in the universe in different bodies before I was combined to be what I am now under these artificial lights. There were eggs, flour, milk - different items that were mixed in different fashions to make me. I was poked, prodded, molded, and finally baked into my latest form. I sit on display in a room filled with ravenous mouths that don’t totally understand the path that I took to reach today.
Regardless, I believe today is my end day. I will be taken today and from there, I don’t know what is beyond. I’ve sat here for eons or two days depending on the entity’s timeline you choose to use for measure. The only thing I have that belongs to me is my ability to judge the mouths in front of me. I’m sweet and I’m perfectly formed, and I will not be consumed by an average observer. This destination is known for its mastery of the cacao, and I expect that the one that finally shows me a new ecosystem respect that.
The first observer is an Adonis. Beautiful to the point that one doesn’t believe he’s ever eaten at all. There is a time for those that only consume protein shakes with matcha powder for a bit of flavor and the top tier of this dessert case is not for him. He would burn me without understanding that frosting is more than just garnishing. He stops and eyes me through the window. Even his hunger is boring. His empty eyes soon leave me, and he settles on an oatmeal cookie. That was a better bet. The raisins in the oatmeal cookie match his outward personality and if you’re indecisive in a dessert shop about what sweet item to eat, you might as well fuck off and order a smoothie and be on your way. There are plenty of soulless empties twirling in the blender as we speak waiting for a new home.
Another patron enters. He’s scary. Gluttonous and angry. He looks like it would be painful. Everything he’s ever eaten has been gobbled to fill a bottomless void. The universe was torn when the particles that created him were put together. There would be no joy here. The fluffiness of my cake would be soaked in unappreciative saliva that would swallow whole a story that was meant to be parsed out. Imagine a page of poetry being read word-by-word in any order the reader chose and then crumpled up into a ball and used by small pups to play catch.
I’m removed from the display case and prepared for my execution. The salivating monster is staring at me, but there is a reprieve. An entire upside-down pineapple pound cake is brought out from the back and packaged. It’s handed over to the ogre and I remain outside of the display case, but safe. The cool air from the door closing behind him hits me and I remember the world outside that I once roamed in different forms.
Squished between a raspberry tart and a NY cheesecake back in the case, I come to terms with the fact that my purpose in this universe is to guide the other desserts to their purpose. The other day I spent the entire evening having a philosophical conversation with a lemon meringue that was unsure if they were sour or sweet. As a slice of chocolate cake, my destiny is sacrosanct. I’m a traditional dessert that is decorated on occasion, but I’m historically prepared the same across the board.
Time passes again and then I see him. He is magnificent. He is beyond description. I don’t know what he has entered the shop for, but I am leaving with him regardless. He grabs a tray and orders a drink and a sandwich, I wait breathless, and am rewarded when he also places me on his tray. We end up at a corner table in the back and the world slows down.
The sandwich goes first, followed by the drink. The cords of his neck pulse when he swallows. The man was made to perfection. I would understand if he doesn’t want cake after his meal. I can be thrown away and it would be completely all right. Sitting here looking at him now is enough. I travelled through the galaxy and broke into particles that were made into a heavenly slice of iced cake, but I was content to just sit here watching him. Whether it’s measured as an eternity or just a few minutes, it’s everything. There’s a fork nearby and there’s movement. I can’t tell you what happens next. I’m enjoying the view too much.
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Cocoa Spots a Winner
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I wasn’t always this way. I once swam in the universe in different bodies before I was combined to be what I am now under these artificial lights. There were eggs, flour, milk - different items that were mixed in different fashions to make me. I was poked, prodded, molded, and finally baked into my latest form. I sit on display in a room filled with ravenous mouths that don’t totally understand the path that I took to reach today.
Regardless, I believe today is my end day. I will be taken today and from there, I don’t know what is beyond. I’ve sat here for eons or two days depending on the entity’s timeline you choose to use for measure. The only thing I have that belongs to me is my ability to judge the mouths in front of me. I’m sweet and I’m perfectly formed, and I will not be consumed by an average observer. This destination is known for its mastery of the cacao, and I expect that the one that finally shows me a new ecosystem respect that.
The first observer is an Adonis. Beautiful to the point that one doesn’t believe he’s ever eaten at all. There is a time for those that only consume protein shakes with matcha powder for a bit of flavor and the top tier of this dessert case is not for him. He would burn me without understanding that frosting is more than just garnishing. He stops and eyes me through the window. Even his hunger is boring. His empty eyes soon leave me, and he settles on an oatmeal cookie. That was a better bet. The raisins in the oatmeal cookie match his outward personality and if you’re indecisive in a dessert shop about what sweet item to eat, you might as well fuck off and order a smoothie and be on your way. There are plenty of soulless empties twirling in the blender as we speak waiting for a new home.
Another patron enters. He’s scary. Gluttonous and angry. He looks like it would be painful. Everything he’s ever eaten has been gobbled to fill a bottomless void. The universe was torn when the particles that created him were put together. There would be no joy here. The fluffiness of my cake would be soaked in unappreciative saliva that would swallow whole a story that was meant to be parsed out. Imagine a page of poetry being read word-by-word in any order the reader chose and then crumpled up into a ball and used by small pups to play catch.
I’m removed from the display case and prepared for my execution. The salivating monster is staring at me, but there is a reprieve. An entire upside-down pineapple pound cake is brought out from the back and packaged. It’s handed over to the ogre and I remain outside of the display case, but safe. The cool air from the door closing behind him hits me and I remember the world outside that I once roamed in different forms.
Squished between a raspberry tart and a NY cheesecake back in the case, I come to terms with the fact that my purpose in this universe is to guide the other desserts to their purpose. The other day I spent the entire evening having a philosophical conversation with a lemon meringue that was unsure if they were sour or sweet. As a slice of chocolate cake, my destiny is sacrosanct. I’m a traditional dessert that is decorated on occasion, but I’m historically prepared the same across the board.
Time passes again and then I see him. He is magnificent. He is beyond description. I don’t know what he has entered the shop for, but I am leaving with him regardless. He grabs a tray and orders a drink and a sandwich, I wait breathless, and am rewarded when he also places me on his tray. We end up at a corner table in the back and the world slows down.
The sandwich goes first, followed by the drink. The cords of his neck pulse when he swallows. The man was made to perfection. I would understand if he doesn’t want cake after his meal. I can be thrown away and it would be completely all right. Sitting here looking at him now is enough. I travelled through the galaxy and broke into particles that were made into a heavenly slice of iced cake, but I was content to just sit here watching him. Whether it’s measured as an eternity or just a few minutes, it’s everything. There’s a fork nearby and there’s movement. I can’t tell you what happens next. I’m enjoying the view too much.