Word Pad

Chocolate Slave

This was the third time she walked around the market trying to decide what she wanted. Her shoes were pinching her toes. They were a size smaller. But they went well with her pants and she didn’t have a choice but to wear them. Her nimble fingers clenched the white box. She fumbled around to open it and when she did she saw two gorgeous, big, chocolate cupcakes. She took a big bite from one and felt the warm, chocolaty goodness flow through her body. It calmed her mind. Chocolate was medicinal, after all.

But that wasn’t enough. She looked around searchingly. Finally, her eyes caught the ice cream truck. It was painted in a cheery red color and had a welcoming sign. “I’ve found the mother ship!”, she thought happily. Her well heeled feet took her to the counter. Chocolate salted caramel, banana strawberry pineapple, mango ice, peanut butter Oreo fudge, vanilla bean. Her eyes glowed at the endless possibilities.

“I will have a scoop of the peanut butter Oreo fudge on top of the chocolate salted caramel and a drizzle of chocolate fudge in the chocolate dipped waffle.”, she said eagerly to the lady at the counter. She turned to the next person in the line, a skinny girl. She felt the need to explain her customized choices.

“I’m hormonal”, she said sheepishly shrugging her shoulder.

The skinny girl grinned, her white teeth were blinding. “Oh me too! I’ve been sitting there wondering which flavor I should get!”.

Ice cream trucks, serving hormonal women one scoop at a time.

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5 thoughts on “Chocolate Slave

  1. I am falling for your short stories, for two particular reasons ….they are actually short, crisp to en extent, and they talk much abt all my fav things in the world…. cakes, chocolates, icecreams in general food.

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