Devonne Brown

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Betwixt the tantalizing mushrooms and truffles, I teleported through the chocolates. That was the only way to get through them unscathed. I would eat my weight in  chocolate without a muzzle. Against chocolate, especially the 83% cacao, I had no defense. It tantalized me from the other room, I could hear it calling my name through the wrapper. I had no self respect when that chocolate was in the house.

My backstabbing sister knew this weakness of mine, that’s why she brought it to me. She should have just brought a syringe full of it to inject directly into my ass, where the freeloading fat resulting from my chocolate addiction dwells. 

A zaftig fairy godmother icon for the joys of all things bittersweet and chocolate, I walk the Earth in search of the perfect pairing for chocolate. Wine, cheese, and chocolate to round my favorite dystopian comfort evening needs. I’m thinking a mellow Wensleydale paired with a musty crisp Malbec, and the sting of the bitter chocolate would become my go to for a comfort food ensemble. I may have to substitute Swiss for Wensleydale though, can’t get Wensleydale here very often. This is, after all, West Virginia, where things don’t come easy. You gotta know somebody who knows somebody to get it imported.

Do I need green grapes? Yes, I probably need to hear the satisfying pop of a cold green grape against the cheese. I’ll add grapes to my sensory grocery list. Party for one, coming up. 

Cue the music.