Story 6 View From The Toilet Seat

Story 6 View from the toilet seat

Passing through the kitchen I stopped for a moment and gazed at the gaily packaged Easter egg in the shape of a chocolate high heeled shoe. “I thought we’d be past all that when the kids grew up,” I mused moving in the direction of the toilet. More wrapping and cardboard for recycling not to mention the sugar content and its effect, I thought. The lock on the toilet door gave a satisfying click. I relaxed onto the toilet seat and drew my new freshly charged 7 inch tablet from its zipped case.
Last week after the flurry of the missing phone, I had flung the poem I was writing from me. Then, I couldn’t remember which notebook I had written it in and yes, you’ve guessed it, the inevitable search ensued. I decided I’d treat myself to a tablet and keep up with my grandchildren in the technology department.
“Much easier to keep track of my writing,” I explained away the query of why when I had two laptops and a desktop computer I needed another techno device.
It hummed as it started booting up. I settled myself in a more comfortable position. “Right, time to research women’s love affair with shoes,” I murmured. But first I decided to check out the chocolate Easter eggs shoes.
My eyes out on stocks and my mouth watering at the images of edible chocolate stiletto heels, plus 4s and even knee length boots, I goggled on; ordinary shoes forgotten as my eyes consume the array of chocolate.
A runaway success – made in meticulous detail and tasting delicious – the manufacture’s spiel promised.
Every woman believes she will find her Prince Charming and the (chocolate) shoe according to one USA manufacture’s spiel will fit. He’ll whisk her off, and she’ll live happy ever after in chocolate heaven.
“Yeah Right! What centaury are you living in,” I snorted. But still I goggled on seeking yet more images of the chocolate Easter eggs.
Truffolicious – chocolate stiletto shoes decorated with 16 handmade Belgian chocolates, another promised.
I couldn’t stand the strain any longer. Quietly I slid back the lock on the toilet door. The coast was clear. Greedily I snatched the chocolate shoe Easter egg from its place in the kitchen cupboard and raced for the toilet again. Izzy, the spaniel, scenting sweets raced in front of me. “Chocolate Easter eggs are bad for your central nervous system and your heart,” I whispered sidestepping her. Clicking the toilet door shut I sank down on the toilet seat; closed my eyes and savoured the long slender heel of the chocolate shoe.
Thank you for reading my 6th and final short story from Frivolous Thursday.
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Next Thursday the first of a new set of 6 short stories will start.