The one remaining piece of peach crisp with maple cream sauce left from my Monday night dinner group.
Sometimes I'm able to give away all the dessert and take home an empty dish. I'm really thankful for those times because then I know I won't hear the voices later.
The voices of the leftover dessert.
"I'm still here. On the shelf in the fridge. Waiting."
I pretend I don't hear. I tell myself that I should save that last piece of dessert for tomorrow. That's what a mature, reasonable adult would do.
"Hello? Can you hear me? Remember a few hours ago when everyone agreed how delicious I was - warm and tart and tasting of summer? You're going to eat me eventually anyway. Why not just go ahead and get it over with?"
OK. You win....again.