Friday, June 18, 2010
The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake - Anne Wright
The eyes did not want lemon cake. They wanted chocolate, rich and dark, with secret chunks of chocolate chips hidden inside. The lemon cake sat untouched. Prissy in pastel. Too good for anyone. Maybe it was the tart that fought with the sweet, but the lemon cake’s crumbs, moist and dense, defended her from the fork tines, the knife blade and the brutal ivory teeth. Of course, the tongues desired to be slathered in brown creamy chocolate, sweet sweet sweet sugary frosting that teeth knew was very bad. Lemon was too light. Chocolate did a disappearing act.