Spoonfuls of Sugar
By Allison Elizabeth
I find myself nervous to tell this story as if I were writing the holy scriptures. In a way this is a story of my faith. God is a woman and that woman is us.
The only thing certain about life is that you will meet her. This is certain because it has happened and this is a recountment of the events. Many people buy the entire set of blind boxes in order to get this specific figure, but it has already been decided the box you pick up will contain what you want.
I have made enough coffee to share, but every box I attempt to enter is sealed with plastic wrap. I’ve cut my fingers on cardboard too many times to attempt to sink my claws into what wishes to remain a mystery. The decoration on the outside matches the skyline, but in the end is just a mockery of the real view. Why is everyone always pretending to be somewhere instead of actually going there?
The thought of this upsets me. I pour my coffee on the box. Everything becomes liquid. Inside is a face of plastic covered in horse hair.
HER: That’s nice. Did you pick her to look like you?
ME: This is just what I got.
HER: Well that makes sense.
She does look like me, but not in a way that would make us seem like a mother and daughter. Just in a way that makes us cup our hands together to scoop up the coffee from the floor and pour it into each other’s mouths.There is so much power in being the person to fill your own coffee cup.
In perfect alignment of the last drip of the coffee she begins to put sugar in your purse.
ME: That's okay, I like my coffee black.
HER: I know, that’s why I am putting it in your purse.
For some reason I feel as if I have stolen her. This is not something I deserve. I think I’m a person who should leave the coffee on the floor and mop it up with her dress. Leave all of the boxes on the shelves. Why do I get to get what I want? Why do I get to have so much sugar in my purse? But the world continues to be the world. Other people come and rip open the other boxes to reveal the other figures. This is mine. I don’t have to worry. I have what life has given me. I get to watch her words ripple in the coffee.
HER: I don’t regret any of the lights we strung up. I wish you would be done with that boy. They are all small brainless gnats, but god is a woman and that woman is us. I think you would be great in the class. My favorite.
HER: Lick your fingers and put them in your purse.
I do as she says. Not out of obligation. Not because I am so lucky. Simply because I can.
HER: Everything you touch will be sweet.
I know this to be true because this is the certain truth I have pulled from the blind box.
We are sweet. We are happy.
