Cary B Sands


Look at it. Sitting there. Taunting me. Me wants. Me can’t get. Me can’t have. I don’t know how it got there, but I know that it doesn’t belong there. It belongs in my belly. I don’t even know what it is. I want it anyway. After all, why shouldn’t I eat it? It smells like food. It looks like food. It must be num-nums. So golden, so delicious, so crunchy.

There’s no one else here but me. They’ve left me all alone once again. There’s food in my bowl, but it’s brown and dry and smells like processed, dehydrated, machine separated gobbledy-gook. Not like this…this little piece of heaven, sent here by an angel, filled with all the delights of…um…something. Why shouldn’t I have it? That fat one sits and eats all the time. Nobody stops him. Whenever he gets up off the couch, it smells awful. Like hot…

View original post 502 more words