"What have I done?" knife clatters to the floor. I back away from the scene of my crime.
"If you can't do the time, don't do the crime” Mama’s voice fills the room Cover-up ideas swirl in my head.
My hands! Oh God, my hands. Need to wash it off, a quick dash to the sink but I stop.
As if possessed, I lick the red liquid mess on my fingers. . .not a bad taste.
Back to the dining table, I dip my fingers in the gape the knife had made, scoop more and in my mouth it goes.
Slurping sounds fill the air. Insanity! No doubt but I didn't care. Do the crime, enjoy the crime, do time.
An Extra hour at the gym? Well worth it, I thought enjoying the cake with rich gooey red frostings.
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