Yesterday I was at a friend’s house and was offered an Oreo. I haven’t had one in maybe ten years or so and though it wasn’t really tempting, I took it anyway. As soon as I put it into mouth, I felt the sugar on my tongue and then down my throat like shattered glass. Delicious shattered glass. This is what crack is like, what heroin, what every addictive, mind numbing drug is like. I had to have another immediately.
I remembered my Nana with a full package in her lap, on top of the crocheted blanket across her legs, sitting on the porch of the house in the last few years of her life. She ate them all day, even after she couldn’t remember the names of her own children, or dress herself properly, or know that she wasn’t sitting in the theater watching the Boston Pops, she’d remember to get her cookies. I think it’s all she ate.
What a way to go. (I don’t know if I’m saying this with cheer or sorrow).
nice
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