Dorita and the Nachos

There once was a girl named Dorita. Who actually was made out of pita. She had 5 sisters who already had found misters and she was all alone. She had no one to flirt with on the phone. Maybe she had lost her mojo. Or maybe she just wasn't in the zone. But alas she was singular. And exactly triangular. So why it was, she didn't know.

So she went down the string attached to the cupboard, and saw at the end of the counter, a bowl
filled with her friends. She walked inside. They talked and talked, and laughed til they cried. Then suddenly,
a rain of cheese filled the gaps between them inside. The cold sharp cheddar made them feel even better. The sprinkles refreshed the jump in their jest and they giggled and jostled in powdery zest. Then here it was, the bowl raised and clink, they were set in the microwave next to the sink. The door closed then darkness. A moment to zonking. The chips in the bowl  were mumbly talking. Beep. The light and the buzz made her feel warm and fuzzy and the grease got into her eyes. The heat of the oil made her recoil and smush with the chips by her sides. The blanket of cheese felt sweeping and hot. She blacked out with her friends all in the same spot.






by Mary Cassella