Shaylynn Hewitt
I walked by a pretzel stand
‘Quarrels pretzels,’ to be exact.
Then I turned around and walked back to it.
I stood in line,
And waited for my turn.
And when i arrived at the register i made sure to order,
Extra salty
“Are you sure about that sir?” the cashier asked,
“The salty ones are well, salty.”
“Yes I'm sure.”
Of course I was sure.
What is a pretzel without some extra salt?
They gave me my pretzel.
I paid.
I brought it home.
Sat on my couch with some show I didn't care about playing in the background.
And when I took it out of the greasy paper bag,
It looked at me.
No, how could a pretzel look at me?
I must real hungry,
I ignored it when it blinked at me.
Then winked at me?
And then…
Was that a scowl?
I go to take a bite,
“Your breath stinks.”
What on earth was that?
“Excuse me?” I ask.
Though who I'm talking to is unclear.
“I said, your breath stinks.”
I looked down.
My pretzel looked up.
An angry frown etched on his face.
“Am I delusional?”
“Probably,” the pretzel replied.
“But me talking is not a lie.”
“Okay time for you to die.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No!”
“yes!”
“No!”
“What are you?”
“An extra salty pretzel from quarrels pretzels of course.”
It looked at me.
I looked at it.
“What do you want?”
“To fulfill my purpose in life before you eat me. Isn't that what everyone wants in life? To fulfill a purpose?”
“Well yes I suppose that's true. What is your purpose?”
It smirked at me,
I stared at it.
“To quarrel of course.”
“To quarrel?”
“Yes. I'm a quarreling pretzel, and extra salty at that.”
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