I read the labels one by one searching and finding the one that fills my senses with delight. I taste its smoothness in the act of seeking, memories anticipation of what I long for. Delayed delight is placed with reverence into the cart with the other groceries. Carrots and lettuce, a variety of fruit, 1% milk, cheeses with skim milk, 0% fat Greek yogurt, whole grain breads, skinless chicken breasts, pickled beans and beets, mixed legumes all slide aside to make room for this crowning glory wrapped in the purple and gold of royalty. My shopping is done.
I roll my cart into the checkers stall unloading the items of my store scavenger hunt, checking them against my list to see if I have gotten them all. With watchful eyes I check the prices registering before my eyes and see the bagger placing them in the bags. Last of all, tilted against the milk carton, he places my treasure. I swipe my card, key in my numbers and pushing the cart make the journey to my car.
Driving home, I can almost smell it wafting through its wrapper, swirling out of the crowded bag. It tempts me with just one taste, almost singing within the taste centers in my brain. At the red lights its aria of longing crescendos to that high barely resisted note. Luckily the light turns green before I can surrender. My hands grip the steering wheel and I keep my eyes turned to the road. I cannot risk a glance as the bag with its siren song growing with intensity from within.
I have made it. Pulling into my parking stall and turning off the ignition, I reach over, taking bags in hands and make the trek to my door. The waiting is reaching its end. Soon …. soon …. I would be able to silence the siren’s song.
I am determined to play this out to the end. I take the bags into my little kitchen and make sure each item is put in place. Slowly the food finds its resting place until the only thing left on the counter is that piece de resistance robed in its purple and gold.
The time has finally come. I take the tasty treat into my hands and head for the living room where it can finally be enjoyed.
There it is in all its glory — rich, dark, fragrant, sweet bitterness filling the air. Dark chocolate! The darker the better. I count its squares anticipating future moments of delight.
The soft silkiness of the chocolate pleasures my fingers as I carefully snap off two squares. The isolated squares are placed aside as with careful reverence I rewrap the shrinking treasure. Wrapping it again in its robe, I take those two small offerings.
The gentle flowing richness melts in rivers on my tongue.