Thank you for the chocolate!
I am currently enjoying some firecracker chocolate candy from Chuao Chocolatier sent to me as a gift.
I contacted the [redacted] store multiple times asking if there were any packages for me, and they kept saying No. Finally when my brother went in, there was a package left for me since Valentine’s Day. (Hello to you.)
Some lovely drinking chocolate and a selection of mini chocolate bars.
I’m not sure about the potato chip and chocolate flavored one, but I enjoyed the mint, the spicy pepper, the churro, and the firecracker flavors. (The spicy ones are the perfect size, as a little seems to go a long way. So tasty I’d probably eat more than I should if the bars were bigger.)
The firecracker has "sea salt, a dash of chipotle and popping candy crackle in dark chocolate." It pops and crackles in your mouth as the chocolate melts. Very interesting and inspiring.
I don’t know what this is
I was typing away last night, totally in the zone, then I looked up to realize that at some point my fingers had shifted on the keyboard.
This is what I typed up:
Je fe;t a ,o;;opm ,o;es awau/ Je was waotomg fpr tje si,,er tp emed/
I have no idea (now) what I was trying to say. Something like "He felt…" something something. I don’t know.
EXCERPT–
Eating a microwave burrito in his living room at 11 p.m. It felt hot enough to bake bread in the apartment. The air conditioner was broken and the landlord was supposed to fix it. He’d long since ceased to wear pants and had switched to his collection of pilfered lightweight cotton boxers.
He felt sweaty in his undershirt and shorts. The towels he’d thoughtfully arranged on the couch were feeling a bit damp beneath his thighs. His hair stuck to his forehead and scalp. His face felt wet.
He was a sweaty damp wreck. And there wasn’t a whole lot he could do about it.
Water was expensive and it was hot enough that he would immediately be a sweaty mess once he got out of the shower. The air in the apartment was stifling, and opening the window did nothing. Summer had struck with a vengeance.
Cutting a bite of burrito with his fork, he slowly chewed as he gazed at the TV. The bright flickering colors and the murmur of voices brought him comfort even if he wasn’t focusing too closely on what was going on.
He felt
/EXCERPT
Yeah. I don’t know what he felt. My fingers shifted on the keyboard and the bubble was burst.
Wherever this story snippet was originally going… that’s not the story you’re all going to get.
Sorry?
Pax,
~HarperWCK
