Granola Bars

Daffni Gingerich


Picking up my favorite scent I mist the air and walk through it like a goddess in the rain. When I walk downstairs I notice someone left out the box of granola bars. It’s a variety pack. When I close my eyes I’m in the middle of the forest hiking and sniffing dead leaves. I feel myself bloom back to life. Looking for something, anything, I unwrap a bar and taste peanut butter, leftover kisses, and honey. The silence is sweet and the dark blue sky is heavenly. Kisses on my neck and buggies crawling down my spine. Is this the illusion, or the symbolic dream I’ve been praying for? I stick out my tongue as far as I can and taste blueberries and apple cider. He bites my right shoulder and the pain is a bother. I tell him don’t touch me and put the granola bars away. But…

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