Today’s post is my response to this week’s Red Writing Hood prompt over at The Red Dress Club. Our objective was to write about gluttony…I chose a purely fictional account, of course! I ran late finishing this post and I unfortunately missed the deadline – but I wanted to post it anyway, as I had already written 90% of the post!
The box was calling my name.
Jennifer. Come over here. Get me. You know you want me. Eat me. Eat me. Eat me.
I knew that I should’t. I’d been working so hard the last few months to lose the baby weight. Low fat. Low carbohydrate. Low calorie…you name it, I had tried it. And it was working.
One bite won’t hurt you, Jennifer. One little bite. I’m so sweet. I’m moist. Don’t you want me? Don’t you miss the way I melt in your mouth?
I had lost a total of 30 pounds so far, and it had been anything but easy. Eating came easy. Not eating? It was more than difficult – it was downright hard.
I bent over and laced up my running shoes, pushing the thoughts from my mind. At least, I tried to push them from my mind. I forced myself to think of the pavement awaiting me outside. I thought of the sun, shining down from a clear blue sky. It was such a lovely afternoon to go for a run. I grabbed my pedometer and headed towards the door.
Where are you going? Are you really going to leave me sitting here? You know you want me. You know you do! It’s been months since you even looked at me. I’m going stale. You’re wasting me. No one else will eat me. I’ll sit here and rot and it will be all your damn fault. You’re still fat, anyway. One goodie won’t hurt you. Just eat one and you can throw the rest away!
With my hand on the door knob, I turned around and glanced around the room to make sure I wasn’t forgetting anything.
What about me?
I closed the door behind me and stepped out into the sunshine. It felt so good, so right. I was so strong!
I ran to the park, and followed the cross country path through the woods. I walked back home slowly, allowing my heartbeat to slow down. I practiced my breathing exercises and stretched while waiting for the light to turn at the crosswalk. I thought about how much of a difference that 60 minutes on the path each day had made in my body over the last 6 months.
As I sat down at the kitchen table to drink a glass of ice water, I reached into the snack drawer and pulled out the box of Fairy Delight Brownies that my grandmother had sent me for my birthday. 32 caramel morsels, all individually wrapped in their shiny red wrappers. I gingerly released one from it’s wrapper and popped it into my mouth.
I sighed, mouth full of brownie and a tear beginning to form in the corner of my eye. So good. So, so good. Crispy edges, soft and squishy brownie on the inside with a river of caramel floating through the center. It melted in my mouth.
I opened another. The smell wafted up to greet me and I shivered. Oh, so good.
I opened another. I told myself it was okay. They were small. I’d just run so hard. I’d been working so hard.
I opened another. Just a few more wouldn’t hurt. I would go back to my healthy eating tomorrow. I’d be fine.
I opened another.
And another. And another. And another.
And before I knew it, the box was empty.