Collection of Works

The White Label (Write about an obsession)

Where was it? His eyes flicked back and forth frantically, scanning, searching for it. The desire burned hotly inside him, a glowing coal of need. Yes, need. He needed it. He was obsessed.

As he gently pushed the rusty metal cart, its worn rubber wheels squeaked with every rotation. The sound only added to his maddened appearance. The man walked with shuffling steps, almost limping. Short, brown hair adorned the top of his skull and his jaw was dotted with a slight mask of stubble. His eyes were wide, his lips tight, not wanting to miss a thing. But row after row, it was still nowhere in sight.

Finally, the man turned a corner and trudged into the “Condiments and Spreads” aisle. Relief washed over him, bathing his heated skin in a cool breeze. And yet, as he looked down the massive columns of shelves he was crushed to see so many white labels.

Now the need, the hunger, was refueled and raged twice as fiercely as before. It had almost been a month. A month he had been separated from the soothing, creamy taste. A month he had yearned endlessly for the glossy, eggshell white label. And today was his chance. Only she stood in his way.

The man held the cart in an iron grip, his knuckled white, the skin stretched taut. He craned his neck to peer within the large metal basket. Soybean sprouts, whole wheat bread, Tofurkey, canola oil butter substitute, broccoli, bell peppers, oatmeal, and several other extremely healthy food items. He frowned deeply.

Analyzing the contents of the shopping cart seemed to remind him of his mission. He continued walking, his eyes set like a hawk’s on the shelves that enclosed him in the aisle.

The white label.

There! No, that was not it. There! No again. Where could it be?

The man froze, his muscles tense with anticipation. He knew how he must look. The wild expression remained in his eyes, hunger plain on his face. His hands shook as he released the dirty handle of the cart. The bright white lights that hung from the ceiling of the supermarket acted as a spotlight on his face. He could feel himself sweating. The obsession was driving him crazy, slowly and tediously pecking at his defenses, leaving him weak and desperate.

But finally, after a long search, he had found it. With both hands, the man cupped the plastic jar, almost reverently. Sighing, he stood momentarily, the jar still in his firm grip. Quickly and cautiously he twisted his head to both sides. The coast was clear. Temporarily setting his prize back on the shelf, he began forming a small nest for it in the cart.

Suddenly he heard the sharp steps of sneakers against the linoleum tiles.

“Don? Don! Where are you? Come on! We have our couple’s yoga class in half an hour and I still need the soynut butter!” the strong yet feminine voice of his wife reached his ears.

As she rounded the bend, she caught sight of him and the corners of her lips turned down slightly. She walked with the gait of a well-muscled, fit person. It seemed fitting since she was such a health nut and loved to exercise. Recently she had gotten Don to switch to a better diet, leaving his favorite foods behind.

But the more time passed, the greater his obsession grew.

“Don! Oh, here it is!” the woman, Susan, picked a green-labeled jar off the shelf opposite from where Don was standing.

“Sal’s Soynut Butter” it read.

With a look of disdain, the man nodded his head. Yet again he would have to wait, wait for the next opportunity.

And as he turned the shopping cart to follow the already retreating figure of his wife, he shot a longing gaze at the line of jars with the white labels. The brown hazelnut cream within them mocked him. One last time he read the label, marking his obsession, “Nutella”.

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For those of you who've had it before ;) Love it! Don't eat it often though

~Jules :P