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I stared at myself in the full-length mirror. January was here, the time for resolutions. This year would be different. This year I would lose those blasted 10 pounds. “I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me,” I quoted resolutely.
I walked out into the kitchen and having resolved to ignore the ice cream in the freezer, helped myself to a large, crisp salad for lunch.
~ You can’t ignore me. Come, indulge yourself in my cold, delicious sweetness. You know you want me. Come to me, my weak-willed dieter. I know you hear me calling your name. ~
“I’m not listening,” I said aloud, taking another bite of dressing-drenched lettuce and cucumber, pretending it tasted as delicious as hot fudge poured over peanuts and swirls of chocolate in vanilla custard—Enough!
I forced my thoughts onto my book. As a writer, most of my waking hours were spent on developing scenes, formulating plots, and creating character depth…unless, the desire for ice cream intruded.
~ You can not resist the way I tantalize your taste buds, or the delicate way I caress your tongue, as my creamy confection tenderly massages your throat, and soothes you from within. ~
I put the salad bowl in the sink and moved to my computer desk in the study. The salad had only left me hungrier, but I thought about the new dress I wanted to buy and poured myself into my story.
~ My chocolate covered nuts, my mouthwatering peanut butter sauce, my rich swirls of chocolate fudge, my vanilla bean goodness that surpasses no other. You crave me. ~
Successfully typing two pages, my thoughts started to wander again as I consulted the spell check. It was only vanity, after all, that I wanted to lose those 10 pounds. I was a healthy, active young woman. A little bit of ice cream couldn’t hurt, could it?
~ Once on the lips, forever on the hips, as I always say, hehe. ~
“Oh what the heck,” I sighed. “God created ice cream after all.”
I scooped out a large chunk of ice cream and indulged in a big spoonful, savoring the creamy taste.
~ Haha! I got you! A burst of frigid sugar swells to your head in an icy blast of sweetness! ~
“Oww!” The spoon clinked onto the table as I clutched my head. “Brain freeze!”
THE END
Disclaimer: No ice cream was harmed during the making of this story.
The moral of this story?
There really isn’t one.
But I bet you’ll never look at ice cream in the same way.
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