Conquering that mountain
Friday, October 04, 2013
Yesterday I stood in front of a mountain of chocolate for two hours. There was so much of it for us to give away and eat that I could smell the fine scent of heaven, even through their wrappers. Each one was its own individual bundle of joy. Silvers, golds, yellows and all shades of oranges danced around in what was and ocean of decadence.
I have never passed up chocolate before, it's not what I do. I have even been known to leave the confines of my home in the dead of winter to hunt down a delicious morsel or ten. This time, there was no need. The chocolate before me was not the last piece of chocolate on earth so I had no urgent and obsessively pressing need to devour the mountain immediately. There was no need to grab handfuls before it disappeared. There was no desperation or pulsing heartbeat that compelled me to try to gulp down all of this fatty, sugary, unctuous smooth darkness and let it coat my tongue. In fact, it was just chocolate. Neither friend nor foe. Just me and that mountain of chocolate.