Allison Elizabeth

On the first 90 degree day of fall the last slice of cherry pie will be sold at BAZiNGA BLOOM PiE. People have lined up and down the street with their chihuahuas and leopard geckos who they leave in their stead when nature calls. I am here sweating to myself, taking pictures and sending them to McKenna, American Girl of the Year 2012,

hey girl!!! When you get here, bring some deodorant! I’m stank ee!! The last time she texted me was four days ago. My messages laminating butter flour butter flour butter flour. My lip quivers. The chihuahua in front of me vomits little brown pieces covered in mucus on my pinky toe. Oh he’s just so excited! The lady in he holds place for squeals from down the street. Yes. :). This is so exciting! I don’t like cherries, I love them! When I was a little girl my parents took me cherry picking. I never fantasized about my wedding, but walking through the orchard emitted the same radiance from my heart that I could only compare to wedding day jitters. My husband, the cherry tree at the end of the fifth aisle, and I bound our love with the ribbons in my hair tied so tightly around his branches and my fingers that when my mother finally decided to show face at the ceremony my ring finger was purple. McKenna thinks it’s greedy for me to only have nine fingers.

You have far more jam on your middle finger than me. Is something she will remark when I puncture the pie crust to get to the love letters of my ex. The line has remained at a standstill now for 37 minutes. A man walks out in a blue and pink striped hat and shirt and pants and even, surprisingly, shoes and announces

um, hi, hello, oh hey, yeah I remember you from last year, glad you could make it, haha, yeah, okay, so, we have sold the last piece of cherry pie, and like, wow, sorry I wasn’t expecting this many people, haha, we do, um, we got, um, apple pie, and like, honestly, it is apple season now, so, in my, um, opinion, he coughs to clear his throat, it’s better than the cherry pie. The phantom pain of my left ring finger possesses my whole body. So ALL the other girls in line get cherry pie, when they do NOT even have the same love for cherry pies that I do. I gave a four fingered hold up to him.

So you can be out of cherries, just like that? I’ve been a loyal customer to BAZiNGA BLOOM PiE ever since I saw the tiktok video recommending this location. Cherries are MY fruit. If they were the stars, and to me… THEY ARE, they would be MY sign. I can’t just ghost them without saying anything. That’s unfair. I eat them with my hands and I don’t even have all of my fingers… WHY? Because I sacrificed my ring finger to my eternal love of cherries! I cannot just leave them in the stomachs of others. ANYBODY WHO HAS ATE THE PIE PLEASE MAKE A LINE IN FRONT OF ME, OPEN WIDE, I AM A BABY BIRD WAITING TO BE FED!!!

Everybody has been ignoring me, clearly, as no line forms. I receive a buzz notification on my phone. Mckenna!
Yeh I tog uoy eht tsal eciep. Nrut dnuora.

Oh the riddles she tells are not all what I needed :(. There’s a tap on my shoulder. Mckenna! In the plastic limbs and cloth body! She is holding two pie boxes in her hands.

Cherry or apple?

Neither… I didn’t get here early enough for the cherry, and apple is simply not a replacement.

She hands me a box.

I had a feeling you might have run a little late. Did you sleep at all last night?

I open the box to see my former lover. My eyes become wet and my hands begin to shake. I’m a sweaty dancer in the strangest, most involuntary way.

No. I was so excited, I couldn’t find a reason to make myself stop thinking about it.

You seem tired. Let’s take a nap at my place.

Okay :). But will you be jealous? That I am with my former lover?

To be honest, it makes me want to push you out into the road, but at the same time it’s just a piece of pie so I can’t be that angry.

We were married.

Well I’m the one who bought you the slice. So I guess we’re married now.

Okay :).

Bye Bye Cherry Pie

Which Juice Box Are You