The Bagel Love Affair

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I am a bagel and I think I am in love. I meant him the other day in a bakery. We were both there to say good-bye to family members that were sent there to leave this world. I was too late all the little bagels that I once called kin were already bought and eaten.

It was still early in the morning and his little cousins were still on display, just waiting for their turn to leave.

You see, he is a cupcake and a sweet one too, with thick Swiss butter cream frosting for hair and a double chocolate body. I couldn’t take my eyes off his sweetness, as he said good-bye to his cousins.

He saw that I had been too late to say good-bye to my kin, so he gave me a sugary shoulder to cry on. We walked around the little down town street, sipping coffee, and talking about how being baked goods was, especially when it meant knowing so little of our kind makes it pass a day old.

We soon had to part ways. He had to get back to work and I had to work on scheduling my traveling trip. We were able to setting up another date, before my schedule departure and exchanged numbers so that we would be able to talk as I traveled the world, learning about how different cultures treated bagels and now all baked goods.

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