He examined it with his eyes first. Took in the shape,
the texture, the smell, the color. He processed all that
in a matter of seconds. He wouldn’t pick it up
with his hands. He attacked that pretty, innocent cupcake

sitting on his plate like a kamikaze. With his head bowed
down he nosedived into the buttercream frosting
like he was free-falling through a cloud. The sweet cream
would get inside his nostrils and plug up

his nose. The white frosting gave him the appearance
of a Santa Claus beard, with thick swirls of icing
climbing up to his ears. The vanilla alone would
intoxicate him. I’m not even sure if he got

any of the cake part on the first bite. But he dived in
repeatedly until he left a hole in the center. The process
of laying the cupcake to waste was so invigorating
he needed a nap afterwards.