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I sink my teeth into the bar. The texture is strange, coarse, and the chocolate doesn't last long against the warmth of my mouth, quickly slipping away to a puddle of warm, flavored liquid within my mouth.

"Ugh, Carol, these things are disgusting." I jeer at her.

"..." No response.

I kneel before her, smiling lightly at the idea that she may finally celebrate her birthday with her parents. She hasn't been able to for so long, after all, and I'm sure they've bought her a simply ridiculous cake, with the most overly colorful, eyeball-assaulting colors they could find, though always containing the exact same message.
"Happy birthday! We love you!"

I wince further, as my body compels itself to take another bite of the unfortunate-tasting treat. It isn't long before the wafer and puddled chocolate once again assault my tongue, creasing my face in the progress. I straighten out the wrapper, reading the ingredients and smiling faintly at the bright red logo.

"I used to like these things, you know.." I look at her longingly, awaiting her response.

"..." No response.

"You loved them though. I always made an effort to save you one, each Friday as I passed that vending machine outside work. You know the one?"

My speech slows, and tears begin their advance on the defenses of my eyes.

"I... guess, over 13 years.. you forget the taste.. " I whimper, unable to fully contain the sheer volume of liquid attempting to leave my eyeballs.

"..Here. s-so you d-don't forget... the t-taste. S-so you don't forget... me.."

Relieved to be free of the revolting concoction, I place the half I'd initially snapped away down atop the Earth before me, placing a shivering hand atop her.

"I love you... C-Carol... Happy birthday.."

I fold the wrapper in my hands, and leave her to enjoy her treat. It was always her favorite.

Damn ninjas and their onions.

I lost my "Carol" last month. You did an excellent job of describing the process of this sort of thing. You tend to forget the little, stupid things like that just become part of the everyday wallpaper until you eat, or drink, or smell something that reminds you of the person that used to be there.

Every time I smell something cherry or hear the sound of boots clomping, I think my "Carol" is walking up behind me and I turn to see nothing. And it's enough to break the heart every single time.

And I'm not sure what I'm going to do on her first birthday without her later this year, myself.

Very, very effective writing. 10/10.

...you'd be surprised what laughable things from the past can matter so much.

To the rest of the world, it was one of the most maligned products of the 1990s. It was supposed to be the future of beverages, and it ended up a national punchline in six months. The black eye stayed on for the rest of the decade. It was a debacle the likes of which hadn't been seen. How could it- it tested so well in the test markets.

And if you were in those test markets, it was a little different. That's where we lived. And that's how I would connect to it.

I shouldn't have known you. You were always on the boats whenever I was a kid, never spending much time at home- and then, one of the rare times you were at home, you had your first heart attack. You'd be in and out of bad health for the next seventeen years of my life and have to retire instantly. You still tried to work, but you just couldn't handle it anymore. You were strong, and ended up the stay-at-home father for me. I actually got to know you for the first time in my life.

You'd still try to work- and then there was the ways. You'd drive with me every few days up to the place, grab some horseshoe crabs from a medical research facility taking their blood, we'd go release them into the bay. Your friends would catch more, they'd go in, and the circle would continue. We'd go up- I'd get one of those drinks, some breakfast at the fast food place, and continue. A little pocket money for my troubles, and we'd go.

It was really one of the first times I'd get to know you, driving in that old beat-up truck to do this. Finally, I could feel like I had a father, not just a guy I barely got to know.

We'd remain close throughout. Soon, you wouldn't be able to do it anymore. You'd stay at home, still raise me through school. You never told me the doctors said you wouldn't live five years. You told them you'd live to see me finish high school. It came close senior year- but you got out of the hospital in enough time to get just as big a cheer from the people in my school community who knew your trouble as I did walking across.

Shit, you damn near came close to seeing me finish college. I still remember it- I just couldn't cry. People thought it weird. If it was like that, I almost needed to fake it. But how could I cry? I got seventeen years with you I really never should have had.

Things didn't go like that, but it's there. You're buried near work, and hey- the nyuk-nyuk history of things made jokes about it so long they brought this stuff back. If you're right here, it's easy to pick another one up.

...I miss you, Dad. Next time I'll make sure it's a Dunkin' like you always preferred.

🫂

Im gonna skip that one don't feel like crying today

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nice one.

I hope you heal, stranger. never give up hope.