Today’s flash fiction prompt: Employ as many senses as you can.
Midnight Snack
I can’t eat ice cream.
The ice is fine. Shaved slivers of frigid water that send the teeth chitter-chattering? That’s no problem. It’s the cream.
I love the texture, blended smooth as silk; and there’s nothing quite like the tingle on the inside of the cheek as the flavor hits. Bitter hues of chocolate and vanilla, the sweet tang of strawberry, and don’t get me started on hot fudge and warm caramel. Sticky, sweet, drippy dribbles down the sides of the mouth, the chin. Sometimes the floor.
Cold, milky goodness hits the spot, makes me shiver. Then makes me sick. Burbles and burps out both ends aren’t fun for anyone. So I stick to sherbet. I pop open a rainbow top, let the subtle hints of citrus tickle my nose. One spoonful, scooped in secret after hours, sends sugar waves straight to my toes. My taste buds tap dance and my lips pucker to the tune of lime.
Oh yeah, the ice is there. But who am I kidding? I’d rather have the cream.
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