Merrill Beckstead
Stories (3/0)
Miriam's Confectionary
“Mmm… vanilla,” said nobody, ever. Of course it had to be chocolate, it was always chocolate- decadent, sweet, rich, and luscious chocolate. Four thousand years of chocolate- born from cacao, that wonderous bitter bean which made its journey from the steaming jungles of the Yucatan to traverse the world one end to the other, evolving into all its myriad forms- chocolate cakes and brownies, hot black cups of java and foaming lattes, simmering whirlpools of melted chocolate trickling into molds of Hershey bars and Reese’s cups and milk duds, drizzling onto ice cream- even chocolate covered ants!
By Merrill Beckstead3 years ago in Fiction
From the voice journal of Emily B, New Era 437
This is it, the last piece. This small piece of jewelry resting on my palm is the last remnant. It’s shaped like a heart and made from sterling silver, though the metal is now encrusted with rust. When you click on the tiny button in the corner, a small mechanism opens it up to reveal a photograph. I don’t want to talk about the photograph. I’d rather forget about it, but I can’t, no more than I can bring myself to throw the locket away, no more than I can fully let go of the past.
By Merrill Beckstead3 years ago in Fiction