October 29, 2010

Write for 15 minutes through the perspective of a snack cake

Here I am. Home. Safe in my plastic wrapper snuggled tight in the box with the rest of my family. My mission since birth is to provide a fat kid with happiness. I am a Twinkie. My golden outer shell and smooth inner cream was invented to create smiles. My soft body creates joy with every bite. I have watched my family, cousins, parents even brothers and sisters get devoured by a child that should be eating nothing more than a salad. I'm hiding now. Far back in the box, all alone, hoping he won't find me. He took my last relative less than five minutes ago so I should have some time. Then, to my surprise I hear the cabinet begin to creep and the door starts to open. I see a pudgy hand, knuckle dimples and all slowly reaching into my home. Although i'm shuttering with fear, i'm finally serving my life purpose. I'm making a fat kid happy.

What moods is this giving off? Does it potray the true life of a twinkie?

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