Warm Brownies

Its late. I've been waiting for an hour in this dark, dense forest. I hear the sounds of crickets and mosquitoes. I'm surprised at how I didn't think twice about heading home. And how none of the peculiar forest sounds were enough to scare me away. I suppose my real fear was you not showing up. 

In the suffocating darkness, I find some solace in the fireflies. They glow a yellow bone white, as the moon. It was as if their presence made me feel just a little less lonely. The sweet smell of the brownies I'd made for you was tantalizing me.

But I stopped myself and remembered how you'd always tell me how much you loved them ; and how you'd specially buy a block of Vanilla ice cream and Chocolate sauce to pair with it. You'd savour each and every one of them for dessert. I'm surprised at how you'd make them last so long. So long that they would catch fungus. 

It was when my eyes started getting heavy that I opened up the tin box and started downing them. Maybe it was to keep myself awake or maybe it was to comfort myself for your absence. I had intended to give them to you warm but you took so long that they eventually got cold. And I ate them alone.