by Michael C. Keith
You know those little malted milk balls probably more popular in the 1950s than today? Well, they made me puke. Not the chocolate on the outside but the malt inside. There was something about the crusty centers that offended my taste buds and gave my gut spasms. My sisters loved them and knew I wouldn’t try stealing any as I usually did with most of their sweets. Knowing I was no threat to these particular treats, they would taunt me by making loud, lip-smacking sounds as they devoured one after another. Finally, I came up with a plan to get even. When they weren’t looking, I would suck the chocolate from the candies, leaving the dreaded centers intact. After an angry confrontation with my sisters when they saw what I had done, we arrived at a compromise. I could eat the chocolate outers and they would be content with the vile innards, which they actually preferred. When we grew into adulthood, our ability to meet halfway on issues fell by the wayside. I could not abide my sister’s holier-than-thou attitude when it came to my skinning animals and leaving them the internal organs.
Category: Short Story, SNHU Creative Writing, SNHU online creative writing