Here is the story I entered into the NYC Midnight Microfiction Challenge – Bacon is Life. The prompts were horror, eating breakfast and existed. They instruct us not to write the most obvious story. To me the most obvious story would be sitting down to breakfast, enjoying the food, before finding out you were eating human body parts. So I chose to write about one of my loves – bacon. I found describing my love for bacon in 250 words difficult. Unfortunately, I did not make it to the second round. But I enjoyed writing my story. I hope you like it.
Bacon is life!
I ripped the packet of bacon open, slipping four rashers into the pan. It sizzled, a concerto to my ears. Bacon was undeniably the best food that ever existed.
As my bacon cooked, I thought about my favourite bacon foods. Bacon and eggs! The crispiness of the bacon complemented the fluffiness of the eggs. It was the perfect combination for me, like coffee and donuts were perfect for cops. The sweetness of the blueberries in blueberry pancakes, mixed with the saltiness of the bacon, danced on tastebuds like the rumba. A dance full of passion. Eating bacon and eggs rolls, breaking into the egg, luscious yolk exploding into your mouth. Then the saltiness of the bacon arrives. It’s pure erotica in one bite.
I turned the bacon, already a glorious golden brown. Its salty, sweet blissfulness invited me to eat it. Teasing me. Tempting me. I couldn’t wait any longer.
I sat to eat my breakfast. I cut a piece, staring at its moistness. My lips closed around my fork. I dragged the life-giving meat into my mouth. Pressing my tongue to the roof of my mouth, I waited for the delectable juices to flow. What! No! That was not the taste of life.
It was the taste of my worst nightmare. I gagged as the juices of hell dripped down my throat. Without compunction I spat the devil’s food back onto my plate. I grabbed the packet and read the words ‘vegan bacon’.
Bacon is life.
That was death.