Guardian of the super moist

Last night,

I was visited by

the Angel of

Food Cake.

***

Now,

how this angel happened

to get into my room,

I do not know, as the door

was locked, but she tapped

a few times on my forehead

to wake me up.

***

The angel was dressed

in a flowing gown of wax

paper & string,

and in her grip

she held a flaming

cake-stand,

made of the finest Bakelite.

***

And I asked the angel

if she had come from

heaven

to bring me cake.

***

But the angel

just laughed,

shook her head,

and said,

“Like you need cake.”

***

I said,

“Aww, come on,

please, angel,

I’ll put on some coffee.

It’ll be great.”

***

And lo,

the angel presented me with a

large cake of orange hue,

which I instantly recognized.

***

“Wait, carrot cake?”

I said.

“I hate carrot cake.”

***

Parenthetically, dear readers,

Carrot cake is the worst.

***

It’s like, …

when you were a kid

and your parents told

you there would be NO dessert

unless you ate all

vegetables on your plate.

So, you did.

Only to discover, later,

that dessert

was more vegetables!

***

But, in reply,

the angel, only smiled,

winked an eye, and

exited out my

bedroom window

***

The next morning,

I left the carrot cake in the

office break-room,

un-touched, and still on

the flaming cake stand.

***

A few minutes later

I heard someone say,

“Oh, cake!” And, then,

“Ew.”

***

“I hear you, brother,”

I said to myself.

“I hear you.”