Emily Rae Robles

the paradoxymoron

Crunch (Flash Fiction: Day 17)

Prompt: chocolate

Crunch. Crunch. My tennis shoes are turning brown as the icy mud begins to coat their surface. My lungs are withering as my body pushes itself to its limit, dodging the puddles of ice and crashing down on the fallen fir branches. It is 7:02 on a Tuesday morning in January, and I am late for the bus.

Crunch. Crunch. The loose papers in my backpack crumple as I search frantically for the plastic bag containing my breakfast tickets. The freshly toasted bagel is ready for me even before I arrive at the cafeteria counter; the lady working there knows my order well by now.

Crunch. Crunch. I scarf down the bagel as I run through the emptying hallways to the third floor for my chemistry class. I slip on a stair, but catch my balance before I fall. I dash into the classroom just after the bell rings, but the teacher is too busy preparing notes to notice me.

Crunch. Crunch. There is a test this period, but I didn’t finish studying. I take advantage of the teacher’s distracted state to cram my final notes into my brain. With so little time, I know my mind will remember only what I force it to—which thankfully includes quite a lot at such short notice. None of the terms will stick in my mind for longer than a few days after the test, but I’m too focused to care.

Crunch. Crunch. I find myself encompassed by a bone-cracking hug when I venture down the stairs to the library. I have been accosted once again by a hidden friend, determined to surprise me. It works. My back hurts.

Crunch. Crunch. I purposefully miss the bus home so I can walk through the chilly streets, chewing on a bar of chocolate I won for remembering Shakespeare’s birth and death date in English class. The texture reminds me of the blackberries that sometimes line the sides of the roads I am walking down. But right now it is 2:57 on a Tuesday afternoon in January, and the cold has reduced the blackberries to mere brambles.

Crunch. Crunch. Life passes by faster than I can count the minutes. With only a limited amount of time left on the planet, I try to refrain from counting. It is better to not be in such a crunch.


March 7, 2011 - Posted by | flash fiction, writings | , ,


  1. Emily, I love your bio. The imagery of your writing passion as a flame has significance for me. I relate this to the concept of a firebrand. You will ignite this fire in others. Your zeal is contagious.

    Comment by JoDee Luna | March 7, 2011 | Reply

    • Thank you so much! This is really inspiring to hear. Thank you for stopping by and reading!

      Comment by emilyrae | March 7, 2011 | Reply

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