Well, we have the test results in. Your blood

Well, we have the test results in. Your blood lab reads you have a nougaty center.

I took the news stoically. My father had died of a nougaty center which had become impacted with peanuts. I put on my coat of creamy milk chocolate and left the doctor's office.

I walked into the first bar I passed & ordered 2 triple scotches. My Dad had never loved me, but still... Then I saw her. She was a chocolate truffle. A truffle so dark, so rich th

at she just melted into the remaining conciousness of my scotchy haze. I was beating back lush fronds of sorosi: a flashback of my Dad's last excursion to find the ultimate cacao

commune nudged at me. I tried to push it aside and focus on her, but as usual, my sporadic flashbacks got the better of me. I should really talk to someone about this.

The flashbacks started being more the norm than not. Was I living my life over again? Then it hit again, lightning bolts flashed and I was back in freshman year. The girls were

hot and aloof. It struck again, at a million-hertz rate and I was re-living every second of my life a million times over until it all flickered, and I was blinking from a daydream.

In the art-deco lobby people came and went but nothing ever changed. Except the view from my suite's balcony. Today it was a burning cobalt woodland beneath an orange fractal su

nrise. The balcony was missing one thing: my body falling from it into the cool forest. Dying wasn't so bad when you had such scenery to look at.