Strange Addiction

Grace Magisana

I wondered why I had suddenly gotten the urge to rush outside and stuff butternut squash in my ears and up my nose. I wondered why I had an hour before run outside and stuffed peas in my pants. I wondered where the can was. I had just gone to the bathroom and discovered peas in my underwear. I knew then that my craving had taken over.

I am a vegetable overeater! I sighed. I went back to my room and flicked on the light. I gasped!

The room was a disaster area! Broccoli was on my pillow. A bag of frozen lima beans was strewn on my lampshade. Carrots spelled “VEGGIEZ” on my keyboard. Corn was smeared on my window. I remembered opening a bottle of ranch dressing and glugging it down. Then, I painted my name on the walls with tomatoes.

I slapped my forehead. I had thrown myself a veggie party! I slumped into a chair. CRUNCH!! I got up. I just sat on a clump of zucchini.

It was time for an appointment with Dr. Turnipheart. The wimp. (more…)

Writers and Other Liars

Deb Carpenter-Nolting

I was five, and I knew how to write.

I stood in the living room, fondling two new red pencils.

“There should be one pencil for everyone. Did you take an extra pencil?” my mother called from the kitchen.

“No, I just have one,” I answered, as I quickly hid the other one behind my back.

When she entered the living room, I extended the one pencil for her inspection, while keeping the other behind my back.

“Are you lying to me?”

“No, Mommy.”

“I know you are lying,” she said in a hurt voice, taking the culprit hand from its hiding. The evidence was right there, a second red pencil clutched in my naughty writer’s hand. Her voice sounded different. I caught the disappointment in it.

The pencil wasn’t an expensive item. It wasn’t so important that I had taken an extra one. The issue was I had knowingly lied. I felt so guilty that I disappointed my mom, the truest and best person I’d ever known.

I’ve tried very hard to never lie again, and for the most part I’ve succeeded, but there’s just something about a shiny new red pencil that still beckons me to lick the lead and be wicked.