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Chonklit Cupcakes


At the store where he buys his lotry tickets. Hoping for two numbers in sequence because that’s luck as everybody knows. Let the machine pick the numbers because the machine decides who gets rich. Not you.

The girl at the lotry counter with butiful eyes. But she never smiles. He knows it’s not because the smile is lost, only withheld like something in her pocket that she secretly fondles. She has a tooth missing. Not a major tooth but one to the side by a moller. A minor tooth but one that matters. To her.

He lines up behind the old lady with a cane who calls out her numbers like they are majik. None of them in sequence he notices. He dances from leg to leg, shifting his weight. Impatient. He has a new stragy to employ. He would always smile and look into her dark, liquid eyes. She would avert her gaze and punch the auto-lotto button and out spits his ticket which she would hand to him and say “good luck”. She said good luck to every customer but for him she meant it.

But today he doesn’t look her in the eye and he doesn’t smile to try to coxe her own. And he can feel her looking at him with question marks and without wishing him good luck she hands him the ticket.

On his way out he looks at his numbers and sees not two numbers in sequence but three and this sine tells him something has changed and stops him by the shelf that has the chonklit cupcakes in a two pac with the frosting shiny and smooth as her skin but a bit darker. He breaks open the sellfane cover and lifts out a cupcake and bites deep so he reaches the creamy center that is like his own skin but whiter. He returns to the lotry counter where no one is in line to try their luck and he hands her the second cupcake. Which she reseeves and opens her mouth so he can see what has been lost and takes a bite leaving cake and crème on her full lower lip.

And she smiles.

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Categories: From Swerve to Bend
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