The prompt was gluttony.
But I was stumped. Blocked in that writerly way.
I swung back and forth in the desk chair. Thinking, thinking.
Got up, opened the fridge door. Stared for a bit. Took out the Coke and poured a glass.
Closing the fridge door, I padded back to the computer. Sat. Raised the fizzing Coke to my mouth, my lips forming that drinking position well before the glass reached them. Protruding forward, as though to catch an absconding target. Weird how they do that. Relax, lips, it’s coming. Trust me.
I love the way the effervescence of the black liquid burns a layer off my tongue each time. I love Coke.
What to write, what to write.
My fingers were poised on the keyboard. Hovering. Any moment now, inspiration.
I waited. Burned another layer off my tongue.
Another wail, this time growing in intensity.
“Guys!” I shouted, a warning to stop doing whatever it was they were currently doing.
Wailing and crying – such a fine line. I heaved myself up off the chair, draining my glass, relishing the bubbles on my tongue before stepping into the fray.
Preschooler admonished. Toddler hefted onto a hip, removed from the scene. Held tightly, soothed with soft murmuring and a smooch just below the ear where I nuzzle often just because I love the smell. Redirected.
I wandered aimlessly, eyes flitting over the chaos of the lounge room, toys strewn lifelessly about, an uncomfortable crunching sound underfoot, a pair of robot underpants without a bottom to cling to.
Wound up in the kitchen.
Finger hooked the kid-proof pantry door open. No staring this time, straight for the Crunchies.
Gold foil dispensed with, teeth cracking through the chocolate exterior and through to the honeycomb. Which side would it be? Always there is a hard side and a soft side. I crunched through the hard side first. I prefer the soft side. It sort of melts if you suck it.
The sugar was cloying on my tongue. I got up and poured another Coke. To temper the sweetness.
Another wail. I can separate them one thousand times a day but they are brothers and find one another again like magnets attracting.
Back at the pantry. I had to reach further into the cupboard because when I grabbed the first Crunchie, I pushed the packet to the very back of the shelf. Because that was it. I wasn’t going to have another one.
But they were fun-sized. So I could totally have another one.
I could probably have three before it was even the size of a regular Crunchie.
I had a third Crunchie.
This time, I tied a rubber band around the packet. Because that was it. I wasn’t going to have another one.
I swung in my desk chair for a bit. Typed and deleted for a bit.
Got up. Poured myself a glass of Coke….
This was written in response to The Red Dress Club prompt on gluttony, one of the seven deadly sins.